#i had to get out the summer pants already bc it was too warm for jeans

[justsomeoneunordinary]

This is my Ko-fi btw. in case anyone would like to support my lifelong dream of moving to Iceland so I don't have to experience another summer again ever 🥺👉👈

#i had to get out the summer pants already bc it was too warm for jeans #in MARCH #the pants!!! that i specifically bought for SUMMER!!! #what the fuck am i supposed to wear in actual summer if it's already now in march like this??? how am i supposed to survive??? #the first fucking mosquitoes appeared as well #which sucks #quite literally #UGH i HATE warm weather!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #back in my childhood we still had a wee bit of snow left this time of the year and now i'm already out in my fucking summer pants #uh... the post is obv just a joke #but the kofi link isn't #if you do wanna toss me some coins i'm not saying no i'm broke as shit

[gold-rhine]

First time sub afab! Kazuha x GN Dom! Reader

A\N: Repost bc my previous blog got shadowbanned. I actually had the visual for this when I was writing my main Kazuha piece, but in the end it didn't fit the pacing, so I'm repurposing it now. this one was quick, but hope you enjoy.

Warnings: nsfw, minors get out, fingering, oral (character receiving)

Wordcount: 1k

You wander the city the entire night with him, it’s summer so it's warm and the sky is hanging very low and black, stars bright and ripe like berries. You kiss him every time you get, until he’s disheveled and flushed, melting against you, eyes gleaming in the darkness. When you pull away, his fingers curl in the folds of your clothes, he looks up at you, biting his lips, swollen from the kisses, hips grinding against you, shy, but not ashamed. He has an understanding of what he wants, incredibly strong for someone so inexperienced, he could not be pressured by time or attention, only makes his move when it feels right. Like it finally does this night, with you.

“Not yet, baby,” you whisper, trail kisses down his arched neck.

“Why not?” he pouts, too sweet and sincere to be manipulative, and you have to fight an urge to take him right there, against the walls in this dirty alleyway, but he deserves better.

“Because I want to make your first time truly special.”

He gives you a small, wry smile. “Well, I’m not exactly a silk bed with rose petals kind of person.”

“I’d never offer you something so stuffy,” you catch his chin, run your thumb over his lower lip until he opens his mouth and takes you in, his scarlet eyes never leaving yours. “Trust me, my little wind, I know you.”

“What is the best place to meet the sunrise?” you ask him as the night is coming to an end and without a second thought he answers

“At the top of the old tower.”

“Let’s go then,” you grin, dragging him by the hand and he smiles, following.

The tower is a ruin left from the ancient defense walls and is of course closed, but Kazuha climbs the nearby tree and gets to the tower’s window through the long branch. As always, he is a treat to watch in motion, swift, decisive and precise. Like any wind, he resists being captured in a moment, each movement would not look too attractive if caught in a still picture, but together in real time they weave together with fluid grace.

He helps you to climb into the window, laughs when you pin him against the wall on the spiraling staircase. You kiss him until he’s flushed and panting, clothes in disarray.

“We’ll miss the dawn if we don’t go up now,” he whispers breathlessly, but doesn’t try to resist, his arms thrown around your neck.

“We won’t,” you kiss his neck, run your hands down his warm, pliant body. “How can the sun rise when I have all of the sunshine right there with me?”

He giggles adorably, squirming under your touch. He’s incredibly wound up after an entire night of teasing, desire is both a tight ball and fluttery wings deep in his belly. But he doesn’t mind waiting, his soaked cunt aches so sweetly, and he loves this dizzy haze, being carried helplessly and played by your will like a leaf in the wind, trusts that you won’t leave him unsatisfied by the end, and so it doesn’t matter when that moment comes.

You do not, in fact, miss the sunrise when you get to the top of the tower, but only barely. The sky is high and clear, deep blue in the west with the last stars and the narrow crescent of the moon still faintly glowing, and translucent gray and light blue at the east, an anticipation of the light. The city underneath the tower is still sleeping, the low ground streets drowning in cloudy mist, but the early birds nesting on the high roofs with reddish-purple shingles are already singing.

He looks at the east side, leaning on the stone parapet, when you catch his waist and decisively turn him around, kiss him while opening his clothes to bare his chest. He doesn’t try to stop you, just blushes brightly, looking up at you with wide opened eyes.

“Right… there?”

You smile, kiss him without answering, and he shivers when you slide his cloth down his shoulders. The morning chill mixes with his own feverish heat, and when you move your lips down his throat, tender juncture between the neck and shoulders, down to his chest, it feels like burning in contrast to the fresh air. You throw your jacket on the wide ledge of the parapet, and he gasps when you push him up on it. You suck on the hard pink bud of his nipple as you take off his pants, but then you straighten up, look down on him. You want to see him fully when you spread his legs, his lips swollen from kisses, neck covered in lovebites, he’s panting hard, blushing brilliantly, but looking you in the eye eagerly, his flushed pink cunt open to your view.

You slide a finger into his wet entrance and watch him moan, grip at the iron lattice on top of the stone ledge. You peper him with kisses until covering his clit with your mouth, and he shudders, gasping. You grin against the tender, slick skin of his pussy, suck on his clit and move your finger inside of him so torturously slow. His cunt clenches and he whines so sweetly, leaning back on the iron, feeling both exposed to the whole world and hidden from everything but you.

You ease another finger in and start pumping them in and out, at first slowly, then increasing the speed. His trembling legs rise up involuntarily, bending at the knees and pressed to his chest to expose his pulsing pussy even more and thrust against your movements. Overwhelmed, he arches, gasping with an open mouth, the edges of the iron lattice digging into his shoulderblades. When you curl your fingers inside of him, your lips on his swollen clit, he comes with a choked helpless moan, his head thrown back, and he sees the first golden light of dawn spread over the blue-gray skies above him while the wave of pleasure that consumes his own body.

You look up and see the tender, lemony yellow sunrays spill over his pale arched body, soft and flushed in contrast to the crumbling rocks and iron, his whimpers mixing with the bird songs. You straighten up and catch his mouth, your fingers still buried deep inside his wet, pulsing cunt, and his legs wrap around you, his mouth opening for you to slide your tongue in.

“I promised you something special, didn’t I?”

#rhine writes filth #rhine writes #sub genshin #sub kazuha #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #dom reader #sub character #kazuha

[idontplaytrack]

I love your writing so much!! Can I please request needy!lilette x reader. Reader decides to wear a shorter skirt than normal and it keeps distracting Lilette to the point that she has to drag you away bc she can't stand it

Thank you!!

Desperation

Lilette Suarez x fem! reader

Warnings: MDNI, smut— fingering, some oral, slight degradation, spanking(reader receiving), pet names

In which Lilette absolutely cannot keep her eyes off of reader, and soon fantasising alone wasn’t enough.

With summer approaching, the weather was turning warm, it gave you the perfect opportunity to show off your new skirt. Skirts weren’t something you wore often, but today you were just in the mood to do so. Unlike Lilette who wore a pretty nice balance of pants and skirts, you gravitated towards pants most of the time. So whenever you did wear a skirt, Lilette had a specific reaction. Usually nice and shy, she’d be extra touchy once she sees you in a skirt. You weren’t going to complain about the extra affection and attention from your girlfriend, but it made it very difficult for you to stay focused.

You drove by Lilette’s to pick her up, like you always do. The girl stopped dead in her tracks the moment she opened the passenger seat’s door. Her eyes go wide for a moment, “Oh. Wow.”

“So subtle, Lil.” You teased, “Like what you’re seeing?”

“Sure do.” Lilette grins, getting into the seat and shutting the door.

“Not that look.” You sigh with a laugh, about to give in to the urge you were feeling. “We have a half day, could you just…wait till we get out of school for the day?”

She could tell you were frustrated, but went with your request anyway and left you to drive in peace. Your skirt wasn’t too short— you didn’t get dress-coded. But some people looked a second too long and Lilette got a little bit upset about it. Your relationship wasn’t under wraps, you two were pretty open. Both of you showed some affection publicly, but never anything over the top.

Except for those days that you’ve worn a skirt: her kisses lingered, she’d have an arm protectively around your waist, she’d lean on you while standing beside you, her touches also weren’t innocent— you’d know she was trying to tease you and rile you up. Usually, you fought the urge. Only letting her have her way with you after class. But it seems that today was going to be the exception. When break time rolled around, it had been two hours since school’d started. Your question was answered when Lilette came up to you frantically and just pulled you away into a janitor’s closet the. locked the door. You smirked, knowing exactly what she wanted.

“You’ve been distracting me.” She says, arm reaching to your back to wrap around you, “Can’t get you out of my head.” Lilette sighs softly, hand going up your face to cup your cheek, “Do you mind if I just— did it, here?”

You shook your head silently, leaning forward to kiss her first. Lilette kisses back with fervour, tongue so quickly sliding into your mouth kicking up the intensity rapidly. She had pressed you up against the wall, pushing your skirt and underwear down to your ankles roughly. You whined at her eagerness, feeling the ache in between your thighs already.

“Fuck.” You mumbled, the word almost instantly getting swallowed by Lilette’s hungry kisses.

You feel her two fingers rubbing your clit and effectively riling you up, applying just the right amount of pressure. You whine, legs going apart a little more on reflex. Lilette grins, almost pervertedly, sliding her fingers lower smoothly. They enter you without you even realising. Her pace was relentless, and her gesture was rough as she repeatedly hammered your g-spot making your knees buckle.

A hand of hers was now firmly holding onto your hip to keep you standing. The discomfort quickly dies down and gets replaced by pure pleasure, feeling the slick dripping down your thighs. You whined softly, hand on her shoulder for more support, but Lilette moved fast— now kneeling before your cunt and swiftly started circling her tongue around your clit to give it the attention it was so quickly craving. “So wet, y/n…what a needy little thing you are.” Lilette says while massaging your inner thighs and watching your face contort and your body react as expected…right in front of your eyes.

“Shut up.” You said in a pant, head leaned back slightly against the wall.

“Really?” Her eyes flicked up to look at you, “Are you sure?”

“Are you seriously going to just stop like this after being so touchy since the minute I saw you? You know what you were doing.” You sigh, vexed.

“No.” Lilette stated, “I can edge you. Make you so soaking wet you’ll be ready to take anything and everything once we get home.”

“Fuck’s sake, Lil.” You exhaled harshly, “What the fuck.”

She smirks, burying her face in your cunt again, teasing your clit with her tongue. You bucked your hips upward, pushing yourself closer to her face. Her hold on your thighs tightened to keep you from moving any more.

You whimpered feeling your climax approaching so ridiculously quick. But Lilette was an expert, or so she claims. She knows the difference in your taste when you were close. She detaches herself from you then started to clean you off with a pack of tissues she had in her pocket. Once she was the one in control, you couldn’t resist letting her use you however she wanted. You were okay with it— so okay with it. Because you knew how intense the eventual release would be and you were more than happy to suffer a little bit and have that much pleasure later on.

"Okay, fuck. Fine. I'll— I'll wait."

"Good girl." She flashes you sweet smile, finishing her task of cleaning you up then let you get dressed again.

————

After lunch, all your classes were with Lilette and she always sat beside you so you were in hell for the last...nearly three hours. Shifting uncomfortably in your seat every once in awhile, and especially when you felt her eyes on you. You glared at her every time, but she only got more happy about it seeing your frustration amp up so easily. "Book report, due next Wednesday. No exceptions." The teacher says, "Any questions?"

The teacher waited a little bit, no hands were raised.

"Lilette, eyes up front."

You looked down and couldn't help but smile, she sees it though. But hey, she stopped staring at you for the remainder of the class. Which...wasn't long but at least she stopped and made it easier for you to sit through the class. Ten minutes later, the class concludes. Mrs. Wallaker dismisses you all. You left the classroom before anyone could stop you, with Lilette right behind you, holding onto your hand. Both of you hurried into your car and you just drove back to yours without a single word being uttered. Once the car started moving, so did Lilette's hand. It finds its way under your skirt, pushing your underwear aside to slip her fingers up and down your folds.

"Excuse me?" You squinted at her. Lilette only grins, knowing you'd fold in 3...2...1. Your features relaxed, focusing your attention on the road while she carries on teasing you. "If I crash the car, it's on you." "Pull over. I'll drive." She says, fingers still moving. You did and quickly switched seats with her so Lilette could finish the remainder of the drive. Twenty minutes. During which, you finally got your release. Completely just soaking the leather beneath you. "Needy." She says with a smirk, pushing her fingers into you one last time forcefully just to see you squirm and hear you yelp. "Do you think you're done yet?" She asks in a quiet voice. There was a right answer she was expecting.

"Mm—" Your breathing hitches as she caresses your thigh, you flinch, "No. No, I'm not."

Once she parks your car in the garage, the both of you scrambled out of the car and entered the house through the door in the garage. Quickly stumbling into your room, Lilette shut and locked the door even though no one was home. Better to be safe than sorry, after all. You'd barely kicked your shoes off before you got pushed onto your bed. Almost toppling over, she stops you and removed your jacket, then your tank top, and your skirt. Leaving you, almost entirely naked. She admires you for a little while before the remaining articles of clothing get removed by her as well in a hurry.

You lay flat on your back, her hand— one fondling with your breast while the other traced your body then found its way back in between your thighs. You cried out, shocked by how sensitive you were. Lilette knowingly went soft and slow, but your wetness returned with a vengeance and spread quickly. "Holy shit, baby." Lilette laughs, almost huskily, sending a shiver down your back. "What?" You ask breathlessly.

"You look heavenly." She says, holding your nipple between two fingers and twisting it.

You whined, desperate for her to fuck you again.

"So sweet, so pretty..." She whispers into your ear, kissing a trail downwards while her fingers were stagnant inside you. You squirmed, "Lil, please...please."

She hums, tugging your sensitive nipple between her teeth. You whimper, much to her delight. She loved how you were sounding right now. Loved it. She also knew what you wanted, but she wanted you to say it out loud. "Please, what?" Her fingers twisted in you as she asks. A tear slips down your cheek, your frame trembling.

"Fuck— fuck me. Fuck me please." You beg, breathing irregular.

Her fingers started moving, steadily increasing their pace. You entirely matched up to her speed, your noises too, letting her have that enjoyment of hearing you curse and swear, making all sorts of noises for her and moaning her name as she pushes you closer.

"Mm— ah— ah— my god..." Your voice was so shaky as you fought the tears welling up in your eyes.

"You're making such pretty noises for me right now, love. How could I have you stop?" Her voice was still low, which you adored in these moments. It helped in making you climax and this girl knew it, that's why she was talking like that. You yipped when you felt her thumb pressing against your clit while her fingers poked your g-spot continuously. "I need to come...please, Lil." You felt like you were about to burst.

"Okay, go for it." She shrugs, her fingers still working your sensitive spots. "Come now."

You unravel on her command, body shaking as you finally got forced into tears. You feel the absurd intensity of every single sensation you experienced at you rode through your second high. You head was giddy with pleasure, your vision blurry being clouded by the tears. "Keep going, I know you can take it." Lilette urges, her pace quickening again to coax another climax. You were fully sobbing as another wave of pleasure over took your entire body. You felt it, you heard it. You also saw her looking at you through it all. That made your cheeks flush and you avoided her gaze. "Look at me." Her voice gentle, but authoritative. You licked your lips, inevitably tasting your tears. Your head slowly turned back to face her. Her free hand strokes your cheek, you vaguely saw her smile. "Can you give me another one, y/n? Or do you want me to stop?"

You shook your head no on reflex, pleasure overtaking everything. You needed that release. You wanted to give it to her. Her fingers retract and you felt a slap, then another. You started clenching around nothing. She goes again, then her fingers slip inside, slamming into you unendingly. You backed up, but not for long. Lilette yanks you back down, focused on making you come for the third time. Right before you came, you feel her mouth on you as her fingers carried on fucking you. You filled it up, and was finally feeling your body relax once her pace became languish. Your tentative hand in her hair lets go, falling to your side lazily as your chest heaved, desperate to catch your breath.

She removes herself from you soon enough, then was laying next to you, brushing the hair out of your face and pressing tiny little kisses all over it. “Did I go too rough?” Lilette asked.

Still in tears and somewhat breathless, you shook your head and continued to take in some slow, deep breaths. “No. I would’ve told you to stop if you were.”

She pulls you closer and you snuggled against her chest, finger fiddling with her silver necklace. “Are you hungry?”

“Yeah.” You muttered.

“I’ll order us some food? What do you want?”

“Tacos.” You told her.

“Yum, okay.” Lilette agrees, pressing a kiss to your forehead before breaking away from the embrace to go locate her phone so that she could order the food. You laid sleepily in your bed as you watched her find her phone and scrolled through the delivery app to place an order for what you wanted. Placing your favourite order, she was quickly back by your side giving you cuddles. “I’ll wake you up when the food gets here.” She says while stroking your hair. You hummed, nodding against her chest while one of your arms was wrapped around her in the front. “Okay.”

“Mhm.” She answers, then playing with your hair till you dozed off, “Get some rest, sweet girl. I’ll stay right here.”

🏷️ Tag list:

@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @reneeswif3 @ludoesartnstuffs @pda128

💭A/N:

As promised, here’s one last fic before I leave for the cruise😭 I still have some time so I’ll try to finish up one more and queue it to post over the weekend while I’m away😗

#auli’i cravalho #lilette suarez #nbc rise #drama high #wlw #wlw smut #wlw ns/fw #matiure themes #reader insert #x reader #female reader #fanfiction #lgbtqia #queer #gxg #reader imagine

[itoshi-s]

no bc noya is literally the whole package like the CONFIDENCE in that man has me dizzy and opening my legs he worships you you’re his religion he’s going on his knees for you

also like the DUALITY PLSSS a total doting bf he never once stops flirting with you in ur relationship he’s so corny. suuuper attentive has extra hair ties and pads in his bag for you. always surprising you with shiny rocks (bc u shine the brightest<3) or jewelry (an - .. an anklet with a little Y charm) or random things that reminds him of you. he makes you laugh so hard you snort your drink out your nose pls also a total cuddle bug who begs you for piggy back rides :((( </333

and then he takes you to his bed and rocks your entire world:( spreads you out and laps at your sensitive nub and fluttering hole for hours until you’re a babbling mess and he comes untouched in his pants:( gives your overstimulated folds a pussyjob until he’s rock hard again from how you whine his name:( makes you ride his cock until your legs quiver and give out only to grab at your ass and slam you down on his thick girth:( to show you how strong he is, how he can handle all of you, how much you can both take from each other with pleasure:( he sucks on your pretty tits until your keening GOD and he’s so vocal too:( filthy groans and moans and unabashed confessions right onto your slick skin of how good you make him feel how tight and perfect your pussy is for him:(( sobbing crying wailing i want him in my guts rn

the way i had to sleep w it before posting cause when i tell you i SCREAAAMEEEDDDD 😵‍💫 sooo foul for this river that is unfair !!

nishinoya, who’s such a good boyfriend that you’re astonished as to why he’s not w anyone already when u first meet. falling in love with him feels like the first warm rays of sun on a summer morning, comforting and making you shudder with excitement for what’s to come. he sweeps u off your feet with his charisma and bright smiles and passion. it’s not long at all until you go out w him and end up going official after just two dates or so. he just makes everything feel so right, like that’s how things should always have been, and you wish you’d met him sooner.

noya, who’s so attentive and thinks about you always. he showers u with lil presents daily because wherever he goes, something reminds him of u and he has to show you </3. most of his days he goes for a lil run first thing in the morning, and he always comes back w pastries from your favorite place down the street to make sure you get a nice morning too. he brings you coffee to bed but it runs lukewarm by the time he’s done kissing you awake. but you don’t mind at all, cause in the end he’s the only thing u rly need to start your day right.

NOYA……. getting u a little anklet.. with a little dainty Y charm … river you are sooooooo right for that. he def does. primarily to hear it tinkle by his ear when he has you folded over and fucks you silly </3 he’s sooooooo fun in bed and ALWAYS at your service. treats you like a queen fr he just wants to make sure you know how dear u are to him !! how glad he is to have found you !! takes sm pleasure from giving it to you, he could cum untouched just from watching you melt under his touch :( absolutely makes sure you know all abt it. you’re so good to me. lemme give you another, i wanna watch you again.

noya who doesn’t mind giving away control and gets absolutely rock hard whenever you take the lead 🫣 esp after a night out when you’re wearing your heels and you’re a bit tipsy and you straddle him and forget to take off your stilettos. he doesn’t last long but he’s got stamina and bounces right back. he has so much to give you </3 INSANE. but he knows that the way you love feeling him most is when he’s the one manhandling you with ease. he’s got absolutely no issue with it even given his shorter frame. he uses you however he pleases and you let him and it’s the single most arousing thing he does to you. he just wants to make the both of you feel good and he knows exactly how to do it, so you let him. confidence is almost substantial on him but it couldn’t be any different, not with the way you’re moaning so sweetly in his ear and give him the most fucked out look. </3

#✧.* lovelies (ﾉ´ з `) / (river) #nishinoya <3 #oh gawd i am down SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO bad this isn’t even funny #laying in bed just staring at the ceiling after rambling abt this #that man has me in such a grip #and river .. you are to blame for this too !!!!!!!!! uwah >////////////< #haikyuu!! #nishinoya x reader

[watchmegetobsessed]

Floating Through Space - Harry Styles

a/n: im literally bursting from excitement over this, i’ve been working on this fic for so long and im pretty satisfied with how it turned out so i hope you’ll like it too! pleas please PLEASE don’t let this flop bc it means a lot to me 🥺 the song featured in the fic is obviously an existing one, i linked it into the right place so you can listen to it and get the vibe of it, that song is what inspired the whole story so i recommend giving it a listen! leave your thoughts and reactions, i can’t wait to read what you thought about the fic!!

pairing: Harry x Famous!Reader

warning: drug use, smut and everything thats wrong with patriarchy lmao

word count: 25.7k

masterlist

This dressing room is no different than the other one thousand you’ve been to. The plaster on the wall is all cracked up, the red bricks peeking from under it in the corner, the dusty couch looks like it’s been through hell and just sitting on it would probably give you STDs. The mirror on the wall is cracked, the few water bottles you’ve gotten are not even cooled, they’re a warm room temperature. The glorious life of a musician, right?

Moments like this you question why you didn’t just choose to be the obedient daughter and became a surgeon like your parents always wanted you to be. You’d have a steady future and a nice income, a decent career instead of having to perform at a different bar every other night for nicks and pennies that barely cover your rent at the end of the month. But that wouldn’t be you. Wearing scrubs, smiling at patients, throwing out your dignity along with your dreams, you wouldn’t have been true to yourself if you chose that life. Besides, you’d still be in school, barely nearing the halfpoint of your education if you decided to go along with your parents’ plan and it’s clearer than daylight that the school system is just not for you. It would be pure torture if you had to sit in classes for a decade just to work a job you never even wanted.

Looking around the small dressing room you cast your eyes over your band that consists of three people. It’s a temporary set up from three guys you met along your way, all of the struggling musicians as you and you saw the as opportunities. Places would rather have a band play with several men in it than just put one single woman on stage and pray for the best. It’s the sexist part of the industry not enough people talk about. You can’t even count how many pitying stares you’ve gotten through the years when you stated that you want to make a career as a solo female singer.

“Honey, you ain’t making it without at least one man behind you,” is what they’ve always told you. So you’ve gotten yourself three until you could stand on your own two feet without a male backup. You’re using them just as much as they are using you. They were already a band when you joined them, the lead singer just disappeared to thin air with her boyfriend and left them incomplete, so you joined forces to navigate your way together in the depth of the music industry, looking for that big jump everyone is dreaming about.

Standing in front of the cracked mirror you fix your eyeliner, checking yourself once again. Your thrifted checkered suit looks radiant on you especially with the neon green see-through top underneath, showing off a black bralette. It’s a male suit, hanging a little baggy on you at places, but you still feel like you’re pulling off the look. Your thick eyeliner makes your eyes appear even bigger than they already are and your hair is in an unruly mop of curls, making your appearance complete.

You’ve received tons of critiques over your outfits, but they are the only thing you are not changing on yourself.

“Don’t wear men’s pants.”

“You’d look better in a dress.”

“Why do you look like a guy?”

“What a shame to hide such a gorgeous body in clothes that weren’t meant for girls.”

Each and every comment is burned into your mind forever and you’ll never stop fighting against the judgment women has to face for not being the conventional beauty all females are expected to be.

There’s a knock on the door and the person behind it barges in without waiting for an answer. The tall, bald guy rushes in, looking a little stressed, but that’s kind of the normal for the owner.

“I’m not sure how to say it, but… you are not performing tonight,” he simply states and your anger sets in faster than ever. You’ve had gigs get cancelled, but not minutes before going on stage. However, he is still not done with his little informative speech. “And your instruments need to be used by another band tonight.”

“What the fuck?” Trey, the drummer jumps to his feet. “No way I’m letting someone else play my drum set!”

“You’ll get half the money if you let it happen,” the owner answers.

“Wait, what band did you find minutes before start?” you ask in complete shock.

“There’s this group celebrating a birthday in the VIP section and some boy band is apparently with them. Birthday girl requested to have the stage for them.”

“And you’re just cancelling on us that easily?” you snap.

“Not that I have a choice. If I don’t do it they are leaving and I’m losing a big amount from the night. Sorry guys, but this is strictly business.”

“I can’t fucking believe this,” you laugh bitterly, staring up at the ceiling. This would have been a great chance for all of you, you’ve been trying to get a gig here for months, knowing that a lot of people from the industry fancies it, you might have caught someone’s eyes, but it’s definitely not happening now.

“Are you letting them use your stuff or not?” he urges, hands on his hips as he looks at the four of you impatiently.

“But what about our gig? We’ve been on the waiting list for months, when can we actually perform?”

“Uh, I don’t know. We’re pretty booked, maybe sometime in the summer?”

“Summer?” you gasp in disbelief. “It’s fucking February!”

“Are you lending them your stuff or not? I don’t have the time for your little tantrum!”

“Yeah, if we get the money they can use it,” Connor, the bass guitarist answers before you explode right then and there. The owner walks out with that, leaving the four of you behind, forgotten and humiliated.

“I can’t fucking believe it,” Trey groans, plopping down on the couch, covering his eyes with his tattooed arm.

“This is fucking bullshit,” you scoff under your breath, reaching for your bag to grab your pack of cigarettes you keep in it especially for cases like this, whenever you are about to go around and punch every living thing in the face in your reach.

Kicking the backdoor open you lean against the cold brick wall as you light the cigarette and start puffing vigorously, trying to get as much nicotine into your system as possible. You notice a group of guys standing near you in the alleyway, laughing on something, having a great time, oblivious to how hurt and angry you are feeling just a few feet away. You hear frictions of their conversation and it’s clear they are British judging from the accents that are hitting your ears. You finish your cigarette pretty fast and immediately reach for another one even though you know you shouldn’t have even smoked that first one, but you just can’t help it. It’s either the smoking or you’re going after the owner and kick him in the balls for being a bitch.

“Oi, can I ask for one?”

Glancing to the side you see that one of the guys has approached you, smiling at you warmly he nods towards the pack in your hands. Nodding you hold it out for him and he takes one. Before he could even ask for the lighter, you throw it at him and he catches it easily.

“Thanks,” he nods, holding the cigarette between his lips before lighting it and passing the lighter back to you.

“Lou, you really shouldn’t smoke,” you hear one of the others speak up as the rest of the group slowly joins you and the one you just helped out.

“S’fine, don’t act like me motha’,” he shrugs, taking a drag from the cigarette.

“At least not before we go on stage,” the blonde one shakes his head at his friend and your eyebrows shoot up.

“Oh, so you’re the band that’s gonna play?” you ask with a forced smile, already feeling your blood boiling. Who the fuck they are and why do they deserve to steal your gig?!

“We’re just playing a couple of songs,” another speaks up shrugging his shoulders. “No big deal.”

“Glad it’s no big deal to you, because it would have been to the band that was robbed from tonight because of you,” you spat at them, clearly surprising them with your harsh reply.

“I assume you are part of that band, right?” the on with the curly hair speaks up, his green eyes burning down at you.

“Nice job, Sherlock,” you groan, taking another drag from your cigarette.

“You could play with us,” he offers, the others nodding in agreement.

“I don’t need your pity,” you scowl at them. “Bringing me on stage to try to make yourselves look like the good guys is not necessary. I’m just fed up with people like you.” The truth is coming out of you easier than ever. All the years on injustice is seemingly erupting from you, pouring down on these five.

“People like us?” the dark haired one asks with a confused look.

“Yeah,” you nod with a bitter chuckle. “Five conventionally hot guys grouped together for a band, making every girl between the age of ten and thirty scream just by a wink. I don’t know where you came from, but I’m betting my head that you’ve had it easier than others.”

“It’s not nice to assume things when you don’t know anything about us,” Curly speaks up, tilting his head to the side.

“Oh, I’ve seen enough not to care about what’s nice and what’s not,” you chuckle shaking your head as you take another long puff from your cigarette and throw the butt to the ground, stepping on it. “Who are you even? Some Back Street Boys 2.0?” you ask, folding your arms on your chest, earning a heartfelt laugh from the blondie.

“I kinda like her,” he smirks around his friends. “We’re called One Direction, you haven’t heard of us?”

“Not even once,” you shake your head.

“That’s kinda humbling,” the one with the cigarette smiles. “We’re from the UK. I’m Louis, that’s Liam, Niall, Zayn and Harry.”

“I would say it’s nice to meet you, but it would be nicer if you guys didn’t just take my gig and lessen me with half my paycheck,” you smile at them sweetly before rolling your eyes.

“Wait, what? They’re not paying you because of us?” Liam asks.

“We only get half the money for lending you our instruments.”

“Let us pay the other half then,” Harry offers right away, but you just laugh at him.

“It’s not about the money, Prince Harry,” you smirk at him, tilting your head to the side. “It’s about justice. How is that air that you just waltz in here and take our time and chance? What if there’s a producer out there who would have liked our music and offered a record deal? What if someone would have taken a video of us performing, put it up to YouTube and it would have gone viral? I assume you never had to go through this phase where you have to beg for every minute on stage so you can at least earn enough money to pay rent. You don’t seem like the type of band who had to perform in smelly bars four times a week for a ridiculous amount of money.”

They stay silent and you know you were right.

“I’m not saying you had it easy, but I’m sure you have no idea what it could have been. And I’m fed up with men walking over others just to have what they want.”

“Look, it wasn’t our intention to ruin your gig. Have your set with your band and then we’ll play a few songs too after that,” Liam offers, but you shake your head.

“No, we weren’t supposed to be just your opening act and it’ll turn into that. So have a nice evening, enjoy your showtime, I’m out.”

Pushing yourself away from the wall you walk back into the building and grabbing your stuff from the dressing room you move out to the bar area, desperately needing a drink.

Sitting on the last stool at the bar you ask for straight tequila and two vodka shots knowing it’ll do the job for the evening and pulling your phone out of your bag, you open up Google. Searching the name One Direction you’re met with quite a few hits and you start scrolling through them, reading about the five boys you just had an encounter with. Just as you thought, they didn’t start off as a traditional band, having put together at a talent show just three years ago, getting such a major push so early in their career, they have no idea how struggling it is to make it in the industry. They surely had their fair share of ups and downs, but they will never know what it’s like to sweat blood and tears for your dream when everyone just wants to drag you down and tell you you’ll never make it.

The shots and half of the tequila is gone, your band joined you to at least get wasted as you watch the technicians set the stage for a band that’s not you, but gonna play with your stuff. Sitting on the stool you’re having a fairly good time thanks to the alcohol when you spot Harry making his way towards you in the crowd.

“Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready backstage?” you ask with an eyeroll as he joins your little circle, the guys eyeing him curiously. Ignoring your comment he pulls out a piece of paper handing it to you. As you unfold it you almost want to throw it back at him.

“This is to make up for what you lost tonight,” he says nodding down at the check in your hands.

“I told you I don’t need your money,” you firmly answer, but Trey grabs the check from your hands.

“But I do!” he snorts. He is such a pig.

“Let us do at least this one thing for you. We really do feel bad for taking your time and the offer to come on stage with us still stands.”

“No thank you,” you shoot him a fake smile before downing the rest of your tequila, the drink burning down your throat. Looking back at Harry you keep your eye locked on him as he watches you intently. He is a good-looking guy, you have to give that to him, but the circumstances you’ve met under just made it impossible for you not to hate him for the privileges he is being handed every day while you fight your way through life.

Harry sighs in defeat nodding as he licks his lips. For a split second, guilt takes over you for the way you’ve been acting towards him and the other boys, but then you remember that you don’t even know him. For all you know, he can be a royal asshole with the face of an angel. You can’t let guilt chew you and spit you out, you have to keep your guards up.

“Alright. We really are sorry. I’ll… see you around,” he nods before turning around to walk away.

You watch them perform their biggest hits, the whole place going crazy over the impromptu One Direction concert they just got for basically free. The VIP area is going crazy over the boys and with each sang song, you feel yourself getting more and more hopeless about your future as a musician. Here you are on a Saturday night, robbed from a job you’ve worked hard for, watching five British boys take your place on the stage that’s supposed to be yours tonight. You catch Harry’s eyes quite often while he is on stage, he keeps glancing in your way, a hint of guilt glistening in his green irises as he sings their songs with perfect vocals. You can tell he feels bad for the situation and you didn’t make it any easier on him or any of the boys, but you’re not really one to beat around the bush. They deserved to know what others in the industry below them have to deal with every day. It’s not always as glamorous as people might think and you’re the living example of that.

You don’t stick around for long after the boys are done on stage, you help your bandmates pack their stuff and head home before Harry or any other members of One Direction can find you.

Walking past the news stand that’s on the corner of your street, you stop upon seeing your own face smiling back at you from the cover of People Magazine, the title catching your attention.

“Grammy nominee Y/N Y/L/N shares her secret to her one of a kind fashion style.”

Grabbing the magazine off the stand you pay for it and continue your way home, holding the copy to your chest with a warm feeling in your heart.

It’s been only a week since the nominations have come out, but it still feels like a dream. You didn’t just get nominated in the category of Best New Artist, but your album Hands of Power got nominated as Best Album and your biggest hit of last year, Sleepless is running for the title of Best song. Three nominations the first time earning a spot on the list. Not bad.

Just as you walk into your place, your phone buzzes, the ever so smiling face of your manager staring back at you from the screen.

“Hey!” you sing into the phone, holding it to your ear with your shoulder, taking off your boots as you walk further down the hallway.

“Are you home already?”

“Yes, just arrived.”

“Great, I’ll be there in ten,” she announces and ends the call. Chuckling you just shake your head, dropping the phone to the coffee table before you move to the bedroom and change into something more comfortable. The flared jeans looked fire on you today, but you rather wear something looser when you’re at home.

You barely have the time to start the water for a tea when Taylor storms through your door using her keys you’ve given her some time ago. She is wearing all white that looks fantastic with her almond skin tone, a knitted sweater tucked into a maxi skirt, paired with strappy heels, she is always so elegant and perfectly dressed for whatever occasion.

“I have knee-shaking news, girl!” she announces as she throws her purse to the couch before joining you in the kitchen.

“I’m going to be the next Bond girl?” you joke smiling to yourself as you get two mugs from the cupboard.

“Better than that!” she cheers. “You are going to perform at the Grammy’s, baby!” she screams throwing her hands into the air as your jaw drops to the floor.

“You’re not just kidding with me, right?!”

“I would never play such a dirty joke with you. It’s one hundred percent true, I had an hour long phone call with some bloke today and they want you.”

“Yes!” you scream in excitement, jumping up and down like a child that just got a pack of candy. “I’ll make the Grammy’s my bitch!” you cheer, making Taylor laugh.

“Alright, Miss Dominatrix. We still have a lot of things to discuss and there’s one more thing about the performance.”

“Oh God, is this the part where you say something that ruins it completely?” you sigh in defeat as you take the kettle and pour the water into the mugs, dropping a filter into each.

“I don’t think it ruins it,” she shakes her head, but you have a feeling you won’t like what she has to say. “They want it to be like a… joined performance. You’d start off with Sleepless, then it would kind of mesh into your partner’s song and they would end it with one of their own songs.”

“Okay, that doesn’t sound bad,” you nod.

“See?” she smiles warmly.

“Do we know who I’m going to perform with?”

“Harry Styles.”

You almost drop both mugs the moment the name is mentioned, but you manage to get them to the kitchen island and slip them to the counter, Taylor giving you a questioning look at your wide-eyed expression.

“Uh, I’m not sure that’s… gonna work,” you clear your throat.

“You’re not sure your duet with the biggest male artist can work? Why is that?”

Licking your lips you try to find the right words to say it, but you’re not even sure why you got so shocked over it. Probably because the last time you saw him, you were still nobody, playing gigs at no name bars and he took your spot on the stage with One Direction. It’s weird, but since you’ve finally made it in the industry, you haven’t crossed paths with him and this would be the first time you meet after seven years.

“I’m not sure if he remembers it, but we’ve met before.”

“You and Harry?”

“Yes. I was playing with The Gambits years ago, it was before I started putting out covers on my own. We were supposed to play at this bar but they cancelled on us, because One Direction was there that night and someone wanted them to play instead of us, so we lost the gig. I had a pretty… harsh conversation with him and the band, basically telling them that their pretty man privilege is what ruins the careers of talented women.” “Oh Jesus, Y/N. Why haven’t I heard of this before?” Taylor sighs leaning on her elbows on the countertop.

“Not that it’s something that would just come up in a conversation,” you shrug. “And as I said, he might not even remember it. It was a long time ago.”

“I know you are all about your rebellious past, good for you, but sometimes you’re making my job really fucking hard,” she sighs, grabbing her phone, already typing a message to God knows who. “Starting beef with Harry Styles before you even made a name for yourself? Who does that?”

“It’s not beef!” you protest. “I just gave them my piece of mind.”

“We’ll see what he thinks about it. I have to make a few calls,” she announces before walking out, already on the phone with someone.

Sitting on a stool, staring into your mug you think back at the time you met him. It feels like a lifetime ago when you were fighting to stay afloat, trying to make through the days, barely hanging on a thread. You didn’t know that five years later you’d sign your first record deal as a solo artist and seven years from that night, you’d be a Grammy nominee. It was a long and challenging time for sure with way more downs than ups until you finally got on track and you’ll never forget where you came from. Not when even as an acknowledged artist, you still face judgment and hatred no matter what you do. Being a solo female singer sometimes feels like harder than being president of the country and there are just so many things that need to change in the world of music, you will never stop fighting for girls that are in the same shoe you once were.

Through the years you’ve followed the career of the boys, especially Harry’s. You read about Zayn’s parting, their so-called hiatus and how they all went solo soon after. Genre-wise Harry’s work is what stands the closest to you, and you’ve witnessed all the backlash he has faced during his time in the spotlight. The shaming for whatever women he chose to date, his choice to get into acting and the way he has been dressing. People just don’t seem to understand they can’t have control over any of these and they’ve tried to bring him down one too many times, but he has been thriving lately, anyone can see that.

Your mug empties out by the time Taylor returns, taking her previous stop at the kitchen island.

“Alright, I set up a meeting with Harry and his manager for tomorrow. They still haven’t decided on the performance and apparently, Harry would like to meet you before giving his answer.”

“Oh God, he remembers me,” you growl under your breath.

“Or maybe he doesn’t and just wants to meet the person he is supposed to perform with. We can never know. We’re meeting them at his manager’s office at eleven tomorrow.”

One night is enough to make you go crazy over such a small thing as meeting someone. It’s not like you are nervous to see him because of who he is, it’s more about knowing what he thinks about you after all these years, in case he remembers you. He saw you as a struggling artist at rock bottom and though your encounter didn’t last long and he didn’t know you on a deeper, personal level, you still fear that he remembers and thinks that you’ve lost yourself over the years.

Authenticity has been a huge issue in your life. Early in your career, everyone wanted to change you. The way you dress, your hair, the style of music you write, nothing was good enough as it was, they wanted you to become someone else, someone who was not you. You fought all attempts until the right person came through and accepted you as yourself, but a tiny voice in the back of your mind kept telling you that they succeeded, that somewhere along the fight you did lose yourself and became what you always feared to be.

Meeting Harry is like meeting a piece of your past and having to face what you’ve become. It’s going to be like a mirror right in front of you and what you’ll see might not be what you expect.

Wearing your bright red dungaree with an oversized vintage shirt and a pair of white sneakers, you definitely don’t look like you’re dressed for a business meeting, but when did you ever? Pushing your hair back with a pair of cat eye shades, you leave a little earlier, knowing well traffic is horrible in these hours. You arrive to the office building just minutes before eleven, Taylor has already texted that she has arrived and which office you should come to. When you finally find the door you’ve been looking for, you take a moment to yourself before knocking.

“Come in!” a male voice calls out and you walk in. Taylor is sitting on the sofa that’s pushed against the wall on the left, a man is sitting behind the enormous desk and then there is Harry, standing by the window, his hands hidden in the pockets of his black slacks, and old Rolling Stones t-shirt hanging loosely on his frame as his eyes meet yours upon your arrival.

“Hey, I would say I’m sorry for being late, but I’m actually exactly on time,” you smirk, closing the door behind you. The man stands from the desk and walking around he meets at the front, holding a hand out for you.

“Perfectly on time,” he smiles warmly. “I’m Jeffrey Azoff, nice to meet you.”

“Y/N Y/L/N. Nice to meet you too.”

“And this here is Harry,” he motions towards the man who has stepped closer and as you look back at him, you’re met with a blank expression for a moment so you can’t figure out if he remembers you or not. But then, a tiny smile tugs on his lips as he holds his hand out for you.

“We’ve met before, right?” he simply questions, and your eyes flicker over to Taylor in a kind of “See? I told you!” manner before you look back at Harry and shake his hand.

“Yeah, we have,” you nod. “A long time ago.”

“Congrats for your nominations,” he smirks, his hand letting go of yours and your let out a soft chuckle.

“Well, thank you. Back at you.”

“Alright, why don’t we start this discussion? We have a lot to go over,” Jeff suggests and you sit beside Taylor while Harry stays near the window, as if he is trying to soak up the sunshine coming through it that’s painting his skin a golden shade.

The concept is simple. The performance would be a mashup from Sleepless and Harry’s song Golden with an exciting and fresh way of mixing the two songs together in the middle, making your song flow into his in a smooth and effortless way. The songs sound compatible and you already have an idea how to mash them together for the transition, but you can’t help but feel doubts over the performance.

“What are your concerns exactly?” Jeff questions.

“Not to come off too harsh, but why is my song the first one?” you ask, earning a few puzzled looks. “If Harry finishes it off, he is going to be the one people will remember more and he’ll get the applause as well. The riffs in the songs allow them to be switched, how come it’s not me who comes second?”

You can see the shock on Jeffrey’s face at how straight-forward you were about your concern and that you even dared to speak up about the issue. He clearly hasn’t had to face anything similar before and when he glances at Harry you follow his gaze as well, but instead of shock, what you see on his face is amusement. He is smirking, tapping his fingers against his chin as he stares back at you.

“She has a point,” he nods and you take a deep breath. For a moment, you really thought this is going to be the part where you are thrown off and Harry makes the performance only his.

“I, uhh—this is what’s been requested,” Jeff answers and you tilt your head.

“Okay, can we make a request to change it?” you simply ask, eyeing Taylor next to you who is typing on her iPad vigorously, taking notes of everything that’s said. She is already used to what you’re like, she is not even surprised you came up with the prompt to change.

“Hold on, so just because you want to be second, you get to be?” Harry questions, but he doesn’t come off as harsh, it seems like he is entertained by the conversation. “Does this mean I don’t deserve to be the second one?”

“That’s-That’s not what I meant,” you answer, taken aback from his accusation and you hate to admit, but he is right. You addressed the issue, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve the spot either.

“Alright, so then we need to seek a solution that benefits the both of us,” he offers, walking closer from the sunlight and you follow his every movement.

“We could do some kind of medley? Do an ultimate mashup from more songs and have more smaller parts split between us, finishing it together,” you suggest and he nods.

“That could work, but I have something else on my mind.”

“And what would that be?” Jeff asks, a little lost about the situation as he watches the two of you exchange ideas.

“We could write a song together, a duet, and perform that instead of our solo stuff.”

“What?” you snap right away. “You want to write a whole new song just for the Grammy’s?”

“Why not?” he smiles carefreely. “We have almost two entire months to do it, albums have been written in shorter periods, I’m sure we can handle just one song. And I think a collaboration would be a hit for the both of us now.”

You look at Taylor who just stares back at you, ignoring the panic in your eyes.

“Don’t look at me,” she tells you. “I can see the collaboration working, it could be a huge hit.”

“And what, we’re gonna release it as a single after the show? Whose song is it going to be? I don’t have an album coming up until next year, do you get to have it on your third one then?”

“We can put it out as just a single. No one has to have it on any albums,” Harry replies. “If we released it after the show, it would be just the right timing. Neither of us had any new songs out in a while.” Clenching your jaw you’re trying to find a way out of this collaboration, though you’re not even sure yourself why. Taylor sees right through you, knowing well you’re planning your escape, but she has other plans apparently.

“Y/N, let’s have a few words outside,” she pushes herself up and pulls you with her. Once the door is shut behind the two of you she starts right away. “What the fuck is your problem? The song is a huge thing, it would be an instant hit with him on it!”

“Why do I need a song with him to stay relevant?” you question, folding your arms on your chest.

“No one said it’s about that. But we both know it would be a great push to your name that Jordan has stomped over not so long ago, calling you a Feminist Nazi.”

“Don’t even fucking mention him!” you whisper yell, refusing to even think about that trashbag of a man that ruined your life with his fake accusations.

“Look, I know what you are thinking, that you’ll be seen as just an object next to him, a pair of boobs and nice legs, but that’s not his brand. He doesn’t need you to be sexy next to him, he is known for his honest and real works that go farther than just twerking and being a hoe. We both know he produces meaningful music, so why are you so against it?”

“I just… I-I’m scared to work with him,” you finally admit and it’s the first thing today that surprises Taylor.

“Scared? Thought you’re not scared of anything,” she huffs.

“I never said that,” you give her a look. “Harry met me when I was nobody, it was just me and my big mouth, trying to find my breakout. What if we start working together and he sees that I completely lost that version of myself? I would feel like a liar, an impostor.”

“You are overreacting,” Taylor sighs. “You’ve changed on your way here, but I doubt you are that far from the girl he met before. I know we didn’t meet just a few years after, but I can assure you, you’re still that big-mouthed pain in the ass who fights every norm in the industry like no one else.”

You know she is right, she is always right. Taylor knows you too well, that’s why you love working with her, but sometimes, her honesty throws you way off, especially when she is stating the truth.

The two of you rejoin the two men in the office and they both look at you with anticipation as you fold your arms on your chest and move your gaze over to Harry.

“I would… love to work on a song with you.”

When you agreed to work with Harry you didn’t think you’d find yourself heading over to his house a few days later to have a writing session, but he offered right away that day in the office and Taylor accepted it before you could protest. You’ve had a day filled with meetings and fittings and now you’re rolling up his driveway after punching the security code in that he shared with you over text.

You’ve exchanged numbers on the spot and just like that, you’ve become one of the few people on this world that could contact Harry Styles anytime they want to.

You chose to be casual for the occasion, wearing a pair of black sweatpants and a white hoodie, you like to be comfortable whenever you’re working on new music and Harry’s presence won’t change your ways about that. You’re not sure what to expect, if you’re being honest you’re still afraid of being alone with Harry and do such an emotional thing together as writing a song.

The front door opens just as you get out of your car, grabbing your bag from the passenger seat. Harry walks out wearing a pair of shorts and a green hoodie, looking like he hasn’t left the house all day.

“Hey, you found the address easily?” he asks smiling as you walk up to him.

“Yeah, everything went fine.”

“Do you want something to drink or eat maybe?” he offers as the two of you walk inside. If you’re being honest, you’re starving, the last time you had anything to eat was between two meetings around ten, but nothing since then, just a granola bar. But you’re a first time guest, you can’t just eat up his fridge, like you’re old pals, right?

However, Harry can see right through you.

“You haven’t had anything in a long time, right?” he softly asks and you purse your lips, feeling awkward already and you haven’t been here for more than two minutes. “I can make you a sandwich, if you’d like.” “Harry, no need, I—“ “No need, but I want to. Come on,” he nods at you, making you follow him into the kitchen. “So, who would have thought we would be here now, huh?” he smirks at you as he gathers the ingredients and starts working on your food while you sit on one of the stools at his kitchen island.

“Not me,” you admit chuckling. “I kind of didn’t think I would see you again, I mean, personally. I was seeing you a lot on TV after that.”

“Now might be a good time to confess that, that night wasn’t the last time I saw you.”

“What?”

“I went to one of your gigs a few weeks later. Stayed at the back, I just really wanted to see you play.”

“And what did you think?” you ask tilting your head to the side. Harry smirks, his eyes meeting yours before they return to the food under his hands.

“You absolutely smashed it. And I felt even worse for taking your time away that night. The people were robbed from a mind-blowing performance and had to see five annoying guys clown on the stage,” he laughs making you chuckle too. “I wasn’t surprised when your name surfaced a few years later. Knew you’d make it at one point.” He joins you at the island and slides the plate in front of you with a warm smile.

“Thank you,” you mumble smiling shyly before you start eating and only after the first bite you feel just how hungry you’ve been. “Now that we are at it, I want to apologize for the way I talked to you guys back then. I feel like I was a bigger asshole than I should have been and the whole situation wasn’t entirely your fault.”

“No need to apologize,” he shakes his head. “You were absolutely right. We had no business being on stage that night and what you said actually made us think about where we came from and appreciate our career more. You were right about having it easy at the beginning. We never had the phase where we had to push our way to the top like other artists, our first days were broadcasted on TV, giving us the biggest push ever.”

It’s good to hear he is not holding grudges against you for whatever went down in the past. You eat in silence while Harry types a response to a message on his phone before turning it with the screen down to pay his full attention to you.

“I actually just messaged Niall that we are working together and he is losing his shit over it,” he chuckles softly.

“You guys still talk?”

“Yeah, sometimes. Not all of us thought,” he adds, pressing his lips together.

“You miss being with the band?”

“It’s… good to rely on someone in certain situations. As a solo artist, you only have yourself and that’s about it. But I think you already know that.”

“I never really liked being in a band,” you admit.

“How come? I think you fit in well with The Gambits.”

You shrug, chewing on your bite slowly. It’s probably not the best time to admit that you prefer working on your own, when you’re about to get into a duet with him.

“I uhh… I always imagined myself being a solo artist and I just couldn’t stay with the guys too long, especially when I got my record deal.”

“Why?” Letting out a long breath you lick your lips looking at him.

“I would have never made it in a band with three guys. It would have always been about which one I’m sleeping with, who am I having an affair with or if I’m lesbian because I’m not hooking up with any of them. This is just how it goes for women.”

Harry stays quiet, taking your words in as you finish the sandwich that was literally lifesaving. You wash the plate even when he tells you to just leave it in the sink, and once that’s done, the two of you move over to his little home studio in the basement of his house.

“So, where do we start?” you ask, making yourself comfortable in one of the armchairs while he grabs an acoustic guitar and sits on the one next to you.

“How do you usually start writing?” he asks scratching his chin before he rests his hands on the body of the guitar.

“Well, most of the times I write when I’m pissed about something,” you huff and Harry smirks at you.

“Nothing pissed you off lately?”

“Not enough to make me write a song,” you point out. “See, this is one of the reasons why I was hesitant to write a song with you. It doesn’t come that easily for me.”

“And what were the other reasons?” You shut your mouth at his question, you weren’t expecting him to pick it up, but apparently, he listens more than you thought.

“It’s… a long story.”

“And we have all the time,” he smiles slyly. “But of course, don’t feel pressured to share. I just thought it would be nice to get to know each other more so we can work together easier.”

Harry starts strumming his guitar gently, playing random riffs as you watch him, chewing on your bottom lip. Taylor asked you to try and be more open than you usually are and though part of you wants to keep the wall high between you and him, something is telling you to try and reach out to him.

“I didn’t want to do it, because I didn’t want to be seen as just a pretty face next to you. In duets between a man and a woman, females are often seen as just an object, a sight for the eyes but not as serious artists. I worked hard to be taken seriously and I was hesitant about collaborating with you even though your music is not necessarily what I should fear.”

Harry looks back at you with an unreadable expression and you feel like he is judging you for standing up for yourself. Your fight for yourself is often mistaken as “being a bitch” or “being too sensitive” and the amount of times you’ve been told to just chill is upsetting.

“Well, good thing then that I won’t write music about twerking,” he then finally speaks up, a smile breaking his blank expression.

“But you do write a lot about sex,” you point out with a smirk.

“That I do, but it doesn’t necessarily have to be sexist at the same time.”

“You’re right,” you nod smiling.

 The writing process turns out to be harder than you thought. You’re not specifically inspired and Harry is the person to just throw things around until he finds something he likes. The two of you put together is kind of chaotic as you try to come up with something useful.

Two hours later you have a raw version of a melody that could serve as a chorus, but nothing else, no full melody, no lyrics. And if you’re being honest, you don’t like that chorus that much either.

“It’ll be fun to just stand on stage for three minutes and do absolutely nothing, because we couldn’t write anything,” you groan, sliding lower in your seat, rubbing your face with your hands.

“It’s literally our first session and we have plenty of time, Y/N. Don’t stress about it.”

“I don’t know how to do that.”

“You don’t know how not to stress?”

“I literally haven’t had a stressfree day since about 2007, so no, I don’t know.”

“You can’t chill even when you smoke?” he asks and you give him a puzzled look. “What, you smoke, don’t you?”

“Cigarettes? I put it down in 2015.”

“No, I’m not talking about cigarettes,” Harry chuckles softly. “You don’t smoke weed?” You shyly shake your head. “Really? I would have sworn you’re the type to relax with a good joint. Want to try it?”

“What? Now?” you ask with wide eyes.

“Why not?” he shrugs and walks over to the little side table in the corner of the room and reaching into it he simply pulls a little plastic bag out with three joints in them.

“Are you just casually keeping joints around your house?”

“I don’t really smoke them, they make me feel sleepy. But some of my friends like it so I keep a few around,” he explains as he takes one out and puts the rest back. “You want to try?”

“I-I’m not sure… I have to drive back home.”

“You can stay for the night, I have three guest bedrooms,” he shrugs before his eyes meet yours. “Again, not trying to pressure you, I’m just offering.”

“Are you gonna smoke?”

“We can share one if you want. I would recommend smoking one by yourself for the first time.”

“Okay,” you nod shortly as you watch him tip-tap the joint a little, rolling it between his fingers before he takes it between his lips and reaches for a lighter. “Wait, shouldn’t we do it somewhere outside? The smoke is gonna get stuck in here.”

Harry stops, thinking about what you said and he nods. Grabbing the guitar he asks you to follow him and the two of you move up and out to the terrace, sinking into his lounge chairs. You bring your knees up to your chest, hugging them tightly as you watch Harry light the joint and take the first few puffs. As he exhales the smoke he holds the joint out for you and you take it, hesitantly putting it between your lips as you inhale for the first time. You can’t help but scowl at the taste, the whole act of smoking feeling strange after years of smoking your last cigarette. You keep it down a little before puffing the smoke out and passing the joint back to Harry.

You keep switching until you make it past half of it and you finally start to feel the effect of it. You feel light, like you’re floating in the pool that’s in front of you, you can almost feel the water touching your skin yet you’re still dry.

“How are you feeling?” Harry asks, blinking at you with hooded eyes.

“I’m feeling… fine,” you chuckle softly as you take the joint from him and drag from it again. “Do you do other drugs?”

“I’ve done shrooms a few times, not often though. I’m not trying to pick up an addiction,” he smiles softly, running a hand through his hair. “Have you done anything?”

“No,” you shake your head. “Didn’t have the money for it before and then didn’t have time later. But I never really felt the need either.”

“And you said you put down the cigarette as well?”

“Yeah. I knew I had to do that sooner or later, it was starting to change my voice and I couldn’t have that.”

“That’s what we always told Louis, that his voice will turn to shit if he keeps smoking,” Harry chuckles softly, dragging from the joint before he passes it over to you, not much left of it.

“Did he ever stop?”

“I think he put it down when his son was born, but I don’t know if he started again.”

You give the joint back for him to finish it and you watch him put it out in the ashtray before he sinks down in the lounge chair, closing his eye for a bit, breathing steadily. You find it amusing how you can still see the guy that handed you a check years ago at that bar, trying to make things right, but he also looks like a completely different person at the same time. He is more mature and open in his mindset and just the way he approaches things in general. The Harry you met seven years ago was still searching his way, but the version lying next to you now is a lot more confident in who he really is.

“Want to take a picture?” he hums keeping his eyes closed.

“What?”

His eyes peel open and turn to face you, a smug smirk on his lips.

“You’ve been staring at me. Take a picture, it lasts longer.”

“You are way too full of yourself,” you scoff and pushing yourself up from the lounge chair you walk over to the edge of the pool, mesmerized by the way the light is dancing on the surface.

You never really thought about what weed would feel like in your system, but it feels oddly tranquil and relaxing. In a way your body feels a little strange, like it’s not even yours, but you also sense everything very… loudly.

“You alright?” you hear Harry’s voice coming from behind, the tapping on his feet signaling that he is walking closer to you.

“Yeah,” you nod without taking your eyes off of the water.

“Do you want to go for a swim?”

“What?” you breathe out turning to face him.

“Do you want to go in?” he rephrases his question with a small smile.

“I don’t… have a bathing suit,” you answer and the moment the words leave your mouth they feel so ridiculous even when you were just stating the truth.

“Okay, but you are wearing underwear, aren’t you?” he smirks. “Or I’m completely fine if you want to go in naked,” he adds smugly.

“Shut up,” you chuckle. “Can you… maybe give me a pair of shorts? I’m fine without a bra when I come out but I would rather have my underwear on dry.”

“Sure,” he hums and turning around he jogs back into the house while you stay right there, staring at the water again.

With each passing moment you get calmer, the outside world and everything in life that’s not happening right in this moment eases into nothingness, your mind numbs in the best way possible.

When Harry returns he is wearing a pair of yellow swimming shorts, two towels are thrown over his shoulders and he has a pair of white shorts in his hands.

“This is the smallest thing I have, I think it’ll be fine,” he comments handing you the shorts.

“Thanks,” you nod before he shows you the way to the closest bathroom where you change out of your clothes leaving them in a neatly folded pile on the counter, you put on the shorts that are a little big on you, but once you’ve tied the strings it seems to be staying up steadily. Your simple black bra is not showing more than what a bikini top would, so you feel fine walking out in your attire.

Harry is sitting at the edge of the pool, his legs moving around in the water. His head lifts hearing your steps and he smiles at you, standing up when you arrive.

“Fits fine,” he nods, taking a look at the shorts.

“Yeah,” you chuckle.

Walking over to the steps you dip your feet in first, testing the temperature before you start going in further, Harry following you right behind. Just as you expected, the water feels smooth against your skin, warmly caressing and swallowing your body as you get in, the surface reaching your chest. You let your arms move around, feel how the water runs through your fingers, it’s amusing and you enjoy it probably more than you should. It’s just water, but right now it feels like a pile of clouds.

“I know I suggested to smoke and then swim, but please don’t drown into my pool, I won’t be able to talk myself out of that,” he chuckles, easing him into the water until it reaches his neck.

“My life is in your hands, Harry,” you smirk at him before you follow him and let the water swallow your whole body up to your neck.  “This feels so nice.”

“Yeah? You like it?” he smirks.

“Mm, like I’m… floating through space.”

“In a sense, you are floating in the water,” he chuckles. “You don’t feel sick, right?”

“No, I’m fine,” you smile at him shortly.

You move over to the edge of the pool, laying your arms to the side, holding yourself up so your legs could float in the water. You watch Harry dive under and swim across the pool, reaching the far end before he pushes himself over to you.

“When I went to see you perform there was a song I really liked, but I never found it anywhere later.”

“Which one?”

“The chorus went like… Crashing and crumbling, I’m fighting for my breath, Today won’t be the day I’m meeting death…”

You suck on your breath, surprised how well he remembered the lines even after so many years. He recalled them perfectly, even singing the melody a little with them.

“I never recorded it in studio,” you admit quietly.

“Why not?”

“Because it felt too emotional and I didn’t want it to be just out there.”

“What was the name of the song?”

“It’s called Till I Die. I wrote it when…” You take a deep breath, feeling heavy just by talking about it, but something is urging you to share it with him. “I left from home right after I graduated high school, broke contact with my parents completely and I had a few very rough years, trying to just… keep myself alive, I guess.”

“Can I ask why you left your parents?”

“We had very different visions of what I should become. And I didn’t intend to live the life they imagined for me. My parents are very… traditional, my career in their eyes is just some kind of circus when I’m the clown on the stage. They don’t take any of it seriously and they made it very clear at the beginning that they don’t want me to become a musician. I was supposed to become a surgeon, my dad is one and my mom is in criminal law, they both worked very hard to get to where they are, but they don’t think that’s exactly what I’m doing as well.”

The last person you shared it with was Taylor and though it feels odd to open up about these old wounds again, but having Harry as the one listening to you just feels right.

“You haven’t talked to them since you left?”

“No,” you shake your head.

“And they didn’t even try to contact you?”

“Well, I made sure they couldn't. Changed my number first thing I set my feet outside the house and I never left them any of my addresses. I know it sounds cruel, but I didn’t want to do anything with them after the shaming they put me through when I told them I don’t want to become their perfect little daughter. They told me that I could consider myself disowned from the family if I dare to even write a song.”

“Woah, that sounds really tough.”

“It was,” you nod. “I wasn’t asking them to support me in any other way apart from just being there for me. It’s not like I wanted to spend the money the put aside for my tuition to buy guitars and tour the country, I just wanted them to… accept who I am, but apparently, I asked for too much.”

You feel tears forming in your eyes, but you wipe them quickly. It’s been long since the last time you let the thought of your parents, you’ve been good at keeping these feelings bottled up and in the deepest end of your mind. It’s not like you’re going around and just share your trauma with anyone you meet, but it felt comfortable to share it with Harry.

“I’m sorry about that. Everyone should have a support, especially in our job.”

“I had… myself,” you chuckle bitterly. “Became pretty good at relying only on myself.”

“I’m guessing it’s another reason why you prefer working alone, right?” he smiles at you softly.

“You could say that,” you nod into the water.

“I know it’ll sound cheesy, but… if you ever want to talk, I’m here,” he offers.

“Oh, are we becoming friends?” you ask chuckling.

“We’ve known each other for long enough to be friends, am I right?” he smirks, splashing some water in your way.

“We met a long time ago, but that doesn’t mean we know each other. Everything I know about you is from articles and gossip sites and I think you can only say the same thing,” you point out.

“Okay, then let’s get to know each other.”

“What, do you want to play 21 questions now or something?” you huff.

“Damn right,” he smirks.

And that’s exactly what you do. Swimming around in the pool you ask each other questions, some are funny, some are more serious and you slowly start to get to know each other, seven years after meeting for the first time, but in a way it feels like it’s been just last week when you were talking in the alleyway.

The weed soon dies down in your system, leaving you incredibly tired and it’s only then you realize it’s already past one am. Pulling out of the pool, you both grab a towel drying yourselves up before making your way back into the house.

“The guest bedroom next to mine has a bathroom so I think that’s the best one. I can give you something to sleep in if you’d like,” Harry offers as you follow him down the hallway.

“I think I’m fine in my sweats, but thank you.” He shows you the room, tells you how to change the AC if you feel too cold or hot and then bidding goodbye he is about to go to his own room when you stop him.

“Thank you for… today. I know we didn’t get far with the song, but… I liked hanging out with you,” you admit with a shy smile, leaning against the doorframe.

“Don’t worry about the song, it’ll be fine. And I liked it too. We can make it a regular thing, if you want. You can come over, we’d chill and try to cook up something for the song.”

“I, uhh… Yeah, that sounds good,” you nod, he shoots you a smile before turning around and disappearing in his room.

The morning doesn’t turn out at all any awkward, especially because you don’t get to stay around too long. You have a meeting at eleven so you have to leave in time to go home and get changed before that. Harry makes you coffee, which is lifesaving, the two of you sit at the terrace as you drink it and you arrange to meet in two days to try and have another, hopefully more successful session for the song.

You genuinely enjoyed your time with Harry and to think that you didn’t only smoked weed for the first time with him, but also opened up about your parents, you feel a kind of connection forming and you can only hope you’re not gonna regret it later.

You move on with work after leaving from Harry’s that morning, you have some fittings for upcoming photoshoots and an interview scheduled, so there’s not much time for you to sit around. Tonight you’re supposed to meet Harry again at his place for another session and you feel buzzed about it. You meet Taylor for lunch, sitting on the terrace of your usual place she is talking you through everything that’s coming up the next week, just like you always do so then you can put work aside and have a real chat.

“So how did the writing session go?” she asks, digging into her salad that she always asks with extra chicken.

“The writing? Not so well. But we had a good time,” you truthfully admit.

“Good, good! You’re finally making friends!” Taylor grins, satisfied with the news. You just roll your eyes at her, turning back to your food right when you notice that your phone has been blowing up with notifications.

Huffing you grab it from the table with the pure intention of muting it down completely, but then you see that several people have texted you the same link and it bugs your curiosity so you open one of the messages and tap on the link.

“You have got to be kidding me,” you groan, feeling your rage already pushing up your spine, clouding your vision in red.

“What?” Taylor snaps, reaching for her phone out of reflex.

“That fucking asshole dragged my name again!”

“Who? Jordan? That fucker never learns?” Taylor hisses, her thumbs vigorously typing on the screen immediately.

“Someone asked him about me on Twitter and he dared to call me a lying bitch! I can’t fucking believe this man!”

You and Jordan worked together on a project a while ago. You were supposed to write lyrics to a song he was composing and it was meant for an upcoming popular Netflix show, so the anticipation around the song was huge, especially when word got out that Ariana Grande might end up singing it. During your time working together he very blatantly tried to hit on you, which you politely shut down, because one, you didn’t intend to date someone you were working so close with and two, you just simply weren’t into him. However, he couldn’t take rejection the way a mature, almost thirty years old man should. It started off very subtly, but once you’ve had a chat with him to stop posting obnoxious and suggesting things about you on his social media, because it’s making it hard for you to be taken seriously as an artist and that people will just see you as another celeb which you don’t want to be, he just completely lost his shit. He called you different names on Twitter a few times, the worst were Feminist Nazi and a cock teasing slut, and he just somehow never fails to mention that you lied about your intentions with him, when you were clearer than daylight that you didn’t want a thing from him other than work.

When you realized he isn’t going to be stopping anytime soon, you took him to court, dragged his ass in front of the judge and won the case, which ended with him having to pay you thirty thousand dollars and he was ordered to clear all his platforms from your name for good. You really thought that taught him a lesson, especially because against your will, the case got some publicity and he ended up making headlines about the fault accusations he made about you, but it seems like he didn’t have enough.

You wouldn’t worry that much about his new tweet, knowing that he is the one lying, but the trials took a toll on you. It was at the beginning of the time when you were making yourself a name and even though you won, his accusations stung for some people and some even thought him to be the victim. You fell out of two brand deals and an important interview in the upcoming months which was a major setback and all for what? Because a man couldn’t accept rejection? The sad part is that if it would have happened the other way around, he wouldn’t have had to suffer any effect of it, people don’t tend to question a man’s words when he is showing this charming and nice persona to the public. If you accused him the same way you would have been dragged and titled as a sour crybaby and Jordan’s life would have carried on the same way.

The peaceful lunch soon falls through as Taylor turns on her beast mode to at least get the tweet down as soon as possible, already contacting the legal team you worked with before. It has to be against what you agreed on at the end of the trials, he can’t just go around and drag you again without any consequences.

In just about twenty minutes, the tweets disappear from Jordan’s feed, but you know it was already late the moment he posted it. If something gets out on the internet it never goes away, there are probably hundreds if not thousands of screenshots floating around that will preserve his words forever.

You part ways Taylor as he heads to an immediate meeting with the lawyers you worked together previously, she tells you to try not to worry about it, but you can’t just turn it off in you, that’s not how it works.

Making your way home you keep riling yourself up about it, thinking about what it’s gonna cause you this time, what opportunity is going to be taken because a man has called you a lying bitch, even after winning the previous trial against him that proves how big of an asshole he really is.

Changing into a casual attire you head to Harry’s place a little earlier, hoping it’s not a problem you get there an hour before you were supposed to. Arriving you’re a little taken aback seeing that there is another car parking on the driveway that’s not his and you immediately regret coming here, but before you could leave, the front door opens and Harry walks out. You couldn’t have left without noticing, the security system must have signaled your arrival when you punched the opening code in.

“Hey, everything alright?” he asks instead of questioning your early arrival.

“I uhh—I’m sorry for being early, I could go—“

“Don’t be silly, come on in!” he waves at you and you walk up the stairs. “Two friends are here but they were just about to leave soon,” he explains as you walk in.

“Sorry for crashing the party,” you let out a soft chuckle.

“The more the merrier,” he smiles. “You seem a little stressed, everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just… It’s nothing,” you shake your head.

“Oh my God, is that who I think it is?” you hear a woman’s voice from behind and turning around you see a smiley brunette walking towards you, a shy looking guy following behind her.

“Sarah, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Sarah, my drummer, and that wanker over there is Mitch, my guitarist.”

“Nice to meet you.” Shaking hands with both of them you realize they look familiar from pictures you’ve seen from Harry’s tour.

“I saw that ugly tweet today, that guy needs to be kicked in the balls,” Sarah sighs with a sympathetic smile, Harry’s ears perking up.

“What tweet?” he asks, eyes switching between you and Sarah.

“Oh, just… Jordan Wells thinks it’s fine to drag people with absolutely no truth behind his words,” you answer with a tight-lipped smile.

“Jordan Wells? The name rings a bell,” Harry hums.

“He is a music producer,” Mitch chimes in.

“I think he was supposed to write for 1D one time, but the deal fell through. Guess we didn’t miss out on anything,” he jokes and it brings a genuine smile to your face.

“You surely didn’t,” you comment under your breath.

You chat with Sarah and Mitch for a bit before they decide to head out, but Sarah asks you to come around sometime they are hanging out and you gladly say yes, wanting to know her and Mitch better, they seem like great company and even greater musicians, it’s always good to meet people who are like you.

As Harry walks his friends out you make yourself comfortable on the couch, reading Taylor’s texts about the update on the recent actions, she has gotten in contact with Jordan’s team and legal steps will be taken if Jordan doesn’t show any sign of improvement in the very near future.

“Hey, want something to drink? Wine or beer maybe?” Harry walks in as you look up from your phone.

“Wine sounds fucking fantastic,” you breathe out earning a soft chuckle from him. You follow him into the kitchen and watch him get a bottle of white wine with two glasses. “I hope Sarah and Mitch didn’t leave early because of me.”

“Oh, not at all. They knew you’d be coming over and would have left around this time, so don’t worry about it.”

He joins you at the kitchen island with the two glasses handing you one and you take a sip from it with a satisfied hum.

“So, want to talk about this Jordan ordeal?”

“There’s not much to talk, really,” you shrug. “He is a jerk and I just can’t seem to get rid of him and I didn’t even date the guy…”

“What did he do this time?”

“Oh, he just casually called me a lying bitch on Twitter, so that’s fun,” you let out a fake laugh, raising your glass before taking a big swig from it.

“Not that creative, if you’re asking me,” he jokes making you laugh. “It’s a very plain choice of words.”

“Yeah, not as good as his best which was calling me a feminist nazi.”

Harry almost chokes on his wine as you say the words, coughing a little while you watch him with an entertained smirk.

“That’s… an interesting way to express his opinion about you,” he answers diplomatically.

“Right? I was thinking about getting a sign of it, like a Live, Love, Laugh one, in the middle of my living room.”

“Would be a wonderful touch of décor,” he smirks. “Alright, I have a proposal for today’s session.”

“Shoot it.”

“You seemed to enjoy your weed experience the last time, I thought we could give it a try again, but we would try to write this time as well.”

“You want to write while smoking?” you ask raising your eyebrows at him.

“Only if you want to. I just thought it would relax you a bit, might even come up with some interesting ideas for the song.”

“Are you trying to turn me into an addict?” you narrow your eyes at him and he just holds his hands up innocently.

“Told you, no pressure,” he smirks angelically.

“I feel like I’m not even coming here to work but to meet with my new dealer,” you chuckle making him laugh. “Okay, we can… give it a try.”

 An hour and one joint per person later the two of you are lounging in his living room, he is sprawled out on the loveseat with a guitar on his arms while you are curled upon the sectional, fumbling with the strings of your hoodie.

“We should just… fucking steal a song,” you snort, finding your comment hilarious.

“Which one were you thinking about?” Harry smirks your way, his fingers gently strumming some random melody on the instrument.

“I really want to have a Madonna song to be mine,” you sigh dreamily.

“You’re a fan?”

“Oh, I grew up on her. I have an elaborate choreography for Hung Up,” you snort.

“You need to perform it for me.”

“No fucking way,” you laugh shaking your head. “Not even weed can make me dance for you.”

“Come on, I need to see that choreography, you can’t just hint it and then never show it to me!”

“Nah, not happening,” you laugh, sliding lower down in your seat, your head resting against the armrest of the couch.

You listen to him play the same melody over and over again with your eyes closed and though you really like what you are hearing, no words are forming in your mind that could serve as lyrics. Your phone buzzes on the cushion next to you and grabbing it you see a text from Taylor.

Taylor: Lawyers are on the case, we’ll have more tomorrow, don’t stress about it too much. Night! Xx

Sighing you drop the device back next to you, covering your eyes with your arms.

“You alright?” Harry softly asks.

“Nah, I just want to… disappear,” you sigh, tired of this fight you’ve been fighting for way too long.

“Is this about Jordan? He is a fucking ass, most people know it.”

“But not everyone!” you snap throwing your hands up. “And that fraction that still believes that he is saying the truth is enough to ruin my life. I’m fucking fed up with the injustice women have to face because of the patriarchy we are forced to live in!” Pushing yourself up you run a hand through your hair, hugging your knees to your chest. “It’s so fucking upsetting, like everything I do goes straight down the drain because of one little thing and I’m stuck with trying to rebuild my whole future plan.”

From a sudden urge, you move down to the floor, lying down on the fluffy rug that runs under the couches and the glass coffee table. It feels nice, kind of grounding to lie flat on the floor, especially because your senses are all messed up again because of the weed, but in a good kind of way.

“You worry way too much on longterm things. Try to stay in the moment a little more,” Harry tells you, putting the guitar to the side so he can move his feet to the floor, leaning onto his knees. “You can’t control this much what happens in the future, you should only care about today. And today, you’ve done good, you made it through another day, you did what you had to do and that’s it. Stressing about tomorrow or the next week or next year is just way too much to deal with all the time, twenty-four-seven, three-six-five, that’s just no way to live.”

Lying on the floor you stare up at the ceiling seemingly blankly, but your mind starts to swirl over what he just told you. The worlds are running around, mixing and mingling until something starts to form, making you gasp.

“Grab the guitar,” you tell him, sitting up abruptly. He pulls his eyebrows together, but does as you told him to, holding the instrument on his lap as he waits for you to instruct him more. “Play that… that melody you’ve been playing, but a little faster.”

He turns his attention at the guitar, trying the strings out a few times, feeling the melody under his fingers before he starts playing it just how you asked as you slowly start to sing the lines you have just thought about.

“You made it through… another day, you made it through another day… You did it, let’s celebrate…”

The lines fit perfectly with the melody he has come up with and the more you sing, the wider his smile grows as you move along in the forming song.

“Some days you feel you’ll break, but you made it through another day, yeah, you did it, let’s celebrate…”

“Don’t fucking stop!” he chimes in, never stopping the riffs, trying out new things as you go, slowly perfecting it together with the lyrics.

“Twenty-four-seven and three-six-five, you made another day, you made it alive! Made another day made it alive!” You sing loud and clear, completely lost in the melody Harry is playing, the lines just flowing out of you, like a dam has been taken down and now everything washes over you at once.

When the chorus is about to come up however you run out of ideas, your eyes meet Harry’s and he sees that you’re stuck. His eyebrows knit together, tongue runs along his lips before he starts playing the melody of the chorus and takes over the singing as well.

“So today, baby, remember it’s okay! We’re all floating through space, today, baby, remember you’re okay! We’re all floating through space…”

He plays a little with the lines, repeats them, tries a few times before he stops singing, you are now standing up, watching him end the melody, neither of you saying a word as he room grows silent. A sudden urge drives you to go closer and you sit back down to the floor in front of him, your eyes casting over the now silent instrument on his lap. Looking up your eyes meet his and you feel like the air is kicked out of your lungs.

You’ve heard so much about moments when you feel yourself pulling towards someone, when it’s like a magnetic field but you never actually experienced it until now. Staring back at Harry you feel that pull everyone has talked about and you finally understand what they were trying to say. It’s like there’s a string coming from your chest that’s connected to him and he is tugging it without even doing anything.

Reaching forward he tugs a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers dancing down the side of your face as you catch his eyes wander down to your lips. Sucking on your breath you feel the moment, you know what he is thinking about because you think about the exact same thing. Kissing him. You are desperate to find out what his lips feel against yours, what he tastes like, what it’s like to have him so close to you.

“You want to kiss me,” you whisper and it’s not a question, more like an observation.

“I do,” he admits with a soft smile, but doesn’t move closer. “Can I?”

“I don’t think it’s an appropriate thing to do in our situation,” you breathe out, though you don’t agree with the statement fully.

“You think too much,” he chuckles softly, leaning closer just a tad bit, but there are still a few inches between the two of you. “Do you want to kiss me?”

“Yes,” you admit.

“Then we should just do what we want to,” he suggests with a small smirk and he looks ridiculously handsome with his dimples and shining green eyes that are glued to you.

“And then what? We’ll just go on like it never happened or there’s going to be more happening? How are we supposed to—“

You don’t get to finish, because Harry closes the distance between you and him and presses his lips against yours, swallowing the rest of your stammering speech. Whatever doubts and hesitation you felt just a moment ago, it all vanishes into nothing as you melt into his kiss, his lips caressing yours gently, softly capturing them, savoring and tasting you with caution, giving you the chance to pull back anytime, but nothing in your body can make you stop kissing him in this moment.

His palms cup your jaw as you push yourself up, slowly making your way to straddle his lap after he has blindly put the guitar to the side, hands coming to rest on his shoulder for leverage. His other hand grips your waist, pulling you close until your chest is pressed up against his, lips never disconnecting in the kiss.

Kissing him feels like second nature, like it’s not even the first but the hundredth time, but on the other hand, every touch and tiny sparkle is so new and unusual, you’ve never felt like this before.

Harry slowly pulls back, pecking your lips a few more times before he stops, nuzzling his nose against you in an adorable and innocent way that brings a smile to your lips.

“Doesn’t it feel good to just do whatever you feel like doing?” he asks with a soft smile, making you laugh.

“Kind of.”

“Nothing has to change. Or something can, it’s up to you.”

“You are so upsettingly cool and respectful,” you blurt out chuckling and it makes him laugh, his head falling back against the back of the couch.

“I’m sorry, I guess?” he smirks with a shrug.

“See? Respectful!” you grin, your hands moving up to cup his face. The pad of your thumbs gently tap against his dimples that are showing thanks to the wide smile on his lips right now. You can’t stop yourself from leaning down and kissing him again, even though your rational side is trying to make you stop. You just can’t, his lips are screaming to be kissed and who are you to deny that?

You’ve been running errands all day. Following an early meeting you ran to your favorite vintage store to get another armchair for your living room. Then you went grocery shopping because your fridge has been ridiculously empty the past two days and later you had a quick fitting for a few outfits you are supposed to wear in the near future. You’ve ran into a few fans too, having small chit-chats with them, taking photos, so it’s been a busy day.

It’s been a week since you and Harry have kissed and despite your fears, it hasn’t been awkward at all. He didn’t bring it up, but you don’t feel like he is pretending it never happened, which is kind of a great balance. He is giving you just enough time and space to figure out what it really meant to you, because quite frankly, you have no idea.

Obviously, you find him attractive. You’d have to be completely blind to say that he is not handsome and just simply good to look at. You’re attracted to him and not just to his looks, but to his whole persona.

It’s just you’re not sure it’s a smart idea to start anything with the man you’re working with and though you know Harry is nothing like Jordan, part of you is still scared the whole thing will happen all over again if you get involved with another man from the industry.

Workwise, everything is going well. You’ve successfully finished the song you started that ominous evening and have started recording it in Harry’s home studio, working some more on the melody, bringing a lot more into it than just a single guitar. What more, you’ve been coming up with new ideas for other songs, lyrics popping up in either your or Harry’s head and you just keep sharing them with each other, saving them for later once the song for the Grammy’s is done.

Heading back to your place you get a call from Harry, his smiley face appearing on the screen of your face as you accept the call and his accent fills the car through the speakers that are connected to your phone through Bluetooth.

“Hey, hope I’m not calling in the middle of a meeting,” he greets you and you can tell he is smiling.

“No, I’m just on my way home. What’s up?”

“I’m meeting with Sarah and Mitch for dinner tonight, thought you’d like to join us.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude on your time with your friends, I feel like you’ve been spending all your time with me.”

“But I like spending time with you,” he chuckles softly, a blush making its way to your cheeks at his words.

“Are you sure you want me there? What about Sarah and Mitch? I crashed your last meeting with them as well.”

“You didn’t crash anything, Y/N. And I’m positive I want you there, I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t. And just so you know, Sarah asked if you’d be joining us, so I assume they wouldn’t mind it either.”

“Oh, well, okay then. Send me the time and place.”

“Wonderful!” he beams, his enthusiasm making your chest warm.

By the time you arrive home he has already texted you the details and you have just one hour to spare before you have to head out. You opt for a quick shower and an outfit change, switching up your ripped mom jeans and simple t-shirt to one of your favorite jumpsuits. It’s a little baggy, but the waist is cinched in with an inbuilt corset, giving the whole fit a very interesting twist.

Arriving at the restaurant Harry has texted you the address of, the waiter escorts you to the terrace at the back that’s a lot more secluded and you feel yourself relaxing that you probably won’t get photographed. Harry is the only one who is already at the table, sitting with his eyes fixed on his phone, but he immediately puts it aside when he sees you approaching, a wide smile stretching across his face.

“Hey! You look amazing!” he greets you pulling you into a quick hug.

“Thank you,” you smile shyly. He is wearing a pair of brown slacks, a simple white shirt tucked into it, a knitted cardigan thrown on, a typical Harry outfit. “And thanks for the invite,” you add as you take the seat next to him, assuming Sarah and Mitch would like to sit next to each other.

“Don’t even mention it. We’re friends, it’s really nothing. I’m glad you could make it.”

The way he called you friends is giving you mixed feelings. Part of you is happily jumping up and down at the fact that he considers you as a friend, given how you don’t have many of those. It’s been hard opening up to anyone since you’ve made a name for yourself, you’ve ran into occasions a lot when people wanted more than just your friendship from you and it made you rather closed off when it comes to making friends.

On the other hand, you can’t help but feel a little disappointed. Is that all you are? Just friends? More importantly, is that all you want to be, or more?

Sarah and Mitch arrive soon after, joining you at the table and the waiter takes the orders before leaving the four of you alone. It seems like they genuinely like it that you’ve joined, so you can enjoy the evening a little more relieved.

Sipping on some amazing wine, you eat and talk and you feel like you’ve known these people your whole life. You especially like Sarah, she is so open-minded and funny and you think they make a great couple with Mitch who is obviously more closed off, but it’s obvious how much he worships his girlfriend.

Sometime in the evening, when you’ve already had two glasses of Chardonnay and you’re feeling a lot more relaxed and comfortable, you move closer to Harry without even noticing, leaning against him gently and his hand rests on your knee, giving it a soft squeeze under the table, making you want to move even closer to him to feel more of his touch, to get more of him.

Neither Sarah, nor Mitch questions the two of you being a little cozier and you’re thankful for the safe and stressfree environment they are providing, not making you overthink what you do, just letting you enjoy the moment.

At the end of the evening, you can’t shake the thought that you don’t want to say goodbye to Harry just yet. He pays for everyone’s dinner, leaving a generous tip for the waiter and you stay back at the table while Sarah runs out to the restroom and Mitch takes a quick call from his father, leaving you alone with Harry. His hand is still resting on your leg, a little farther up, but still in a very safe zone in the middle of your thigh.

Turning to face him your eyes meet his, his green irises glistening in the soft lighting and he looks so beautiful, you just want to kiss him again.

“Do you have plans after this?” you find yourself asking.

“Not that I know of.”

“Do you want to come over to my place?”

“That sounds like a nice plan,” he smiles at you warmly and you just know that if you weren’t out in the public, he would have leant in for a kiss and you wouldn’t have stopped him.

When Sarah and Mitch return all four of you head out and they don’t question when you follow Harry to his car. They say goodbye and Sarah makes you promise to join them some other time too and you happily say yes to the invitation.

Not much is being said on the way back to your place, he plays some music quietly as you navigate him through the streets.  

“Welcome to mi casa,” you smile as you key the two of you into your apartment you’ve been living in for the past few years.

It’s nothing luxurious, just a tad bit bigger than what one person would need as a home. You would have been fine living in your previous home you lived in before you’ve gained fame, but you needed a much bigger closet so you were forced to move. It’s a two bedroom apartment with one big bathroom, an open concept kitchen and a spacious living room. And of course, a closet as big as your bedroom. It’s the perfect size and you haven’t even thought about buying a bigger place just because you can, it would be a waste of money and space. The interior is very much vintage with all your mismatched furniture and colorful walls, but you think it’s quite cozy and just the ideal space for you.

“Would you like something to drink?” you ask, walking into the kitchen to get yourself some water.

“Some water would be great, thank you.”

Filling up two glasses you hand him one as you lean against the counter, silently eyeing each other. It should be clear to him that you had intentions with asking him to come over, especially after being your cozy with each other during dinner, but you’re a little lost in what you should or even want to do. You just know you want him close.

He drinks up his water, his eyes meeting your gaze as a small smirk tugs on his cherry lips.

“You want to kiss me,” he states, using the exact same words you used the night when you kissed for the first time.

“I do,” you nod, feeling a little breathless.

“Then do it,” he simply answers, making you smile.

“Cool and respectful, as always,” you grin at him as he moves closer, stopping just a few inches away from you, your feet almost touching. Reaching up his fingers gently caress the side of your face and you feel yourself already melting under his touch.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, a shiver running down your spine at his words. You close your eyes for a moment, giving yourself the chance to pull out of it, but you realize you don’t want that, not even the tiniest bit. Opening your eyes they meet with his gaze before you move closer, closing the distance between you and him, lips meeting in a warm and chaste kiss.

Though it grows a little hungrier, you can tell he is still holding back a little, giving you the chance to stop whenever you want to, but you don’t intend to. Pushing yourself closer to him, your arms curl around his neck as his hands grip your waist, your tongue meeting his as you deepen the kiss and melt into his embrace.

Pulling back you grab his hand and head to the bedroom, going back to kissing him the moment you reach it. You easily slide his cardigan off his broad shoulders, pulling his t-shirt out of his pants before taking it completely off, throwing it somewhere to the side. You smirk against his lips, hands wandering down his naked chest and you can’t push down a moan as you feel the warmth of his chest muscles under your touch.

When you feel him try to blindly figure out how to get you out of your jumpsuit with not much luck and this clears your head for a moment to realize what is about to happen. Pulling back your gaze meets his and he stares back at you with caution, ready to stop whenever you tell him to, but that’s not what made you pull back.

“Harry, I…” “We don’t have to do anything,” he softly tells you, his fingers dancing down the side of your face until they reach your chin and he pulls you in for a delicate and slow kiss.

“I want to,” you whisper. “It’s just that… I want you to know that I’ve never… I’ve never been with a man before.”

Searching in his eyes you look for any sign of what’s going on in his head wishing you could just simply read his thoughts.

“You’ve never been with a man?” he asks, seemingly not as surprised as you expected him to be. You nod, licking your lips, waiting for any kind of reaction, a part of you expecting to be upset, though you know he has no right to be mad at you for any of it. “Do you want me to be the first man?” he then asks, with a loving and warm smile as his hand on your hip pulls you against him playfully.

“Yes.”

“Then help me get you out of this jumpsuit, because I can’t figure it out for my life,” he chuckles making you laugh too.

You show him where the corset opens and then get you out of it with joined forces, finally leaving you standing in just your underwear. Harry’s gaze runs down your body, a look of hunger and passion shining through his green irises as he pulls you close again, kissing you with a lot more vigor this time.

Soon enough, his slacks slip to the floor and you climb to your bed, Harry following closely, climbing on top of you before rejoining your lips. Your knees open up wide for him, allowing him to sink his hips between your thighs, his crotch meeting your heated center, a moan slipping out your lips when you feel his erection rubbing against you through the material of your underwear. He kisses his way down your jawline and neck, gently sucking on the soft skin, peppering kisses along your collarbones before he reaches your chest. He easily unclasps your bra and slips the straps down your arms before getting rid of the barrier that’s been keeping him away from your naked chest.

“Fuck, Y/N, you are so damn beautiful,” he breathes out shakily, before his lips wrap around your right nipple, his hand cupping your other breast. You keep whining and whimpering as you feel his tongue swirl around your nipple before his mouth moves over to the other breast, giving it just the same amount of attention.

He kisses down your stomach, glancing up at you as he hooks his fingers into the elastic of your panties silently asking for your permission to go further, still so respectfully looking out for you. As an answer, you lift your hips up so he can easily slide the material down your legs and throw it to the side.

“Oh fuck!” you moan when his tongue and lips press against your bud, playing with it oh so perfectly, making you shudder. If you didn’t think Harry was perfect, his tongue work is now surely making a statement on that.

With every lick, kiss and suck he pushes you closer to your release that’s nearing in a fast pace like never before. Reaching down you lace your fingers through his chocolate curls, tugging on the lightly, making him moan against your core. You’re not sure how long you’ll last, but you want to cum with him inside you, so you pull him up, lips meeting again as you still taste your own juice on him. It’s heavenly.

Without breaking the kiss you reach down and into his underwear, palming his fully hard cock, earning a satisfied growl when you wrap your hand around him. The feeling is quite unknown, you’ve only once had to face a penis before, it happened back in high school when you were still figuring out what sexuality meant to you. Gave a wobbly and quite short handjob to a guy from the grade above you, never even talked to him again. The experience left a major effect on you, never even got close to being intimate with a man, but being with Harry now is putting everything into a whole new light.

“Do you have a condom?” he mumbles against your lips, clearly just as excited to carry on as you are.

“Yeah,” you nod and let go of him, rolling to the edge of the bed so you can dig into the drawer of your nightstand, successfully finding the little silver packet. Tearing it open you hand it over to Harry and get back to your previous position as you watch him kneeling up, rolling the condom on carefully. Your lips part when your eyes fall on his cock, seeing now how big he really is. Harry catches your eyes and leaning down he kisses you softly.

“Tell me if it hurts and I’ll stop, okay?” he kindly tells you, but you smile at him coyly.

“You might be the first man I’m with, but your dick won’t be the first thing to be inside me,” you answer with a smug smirk and it brings an amused look to his face.

“You are so fucking hot,” he murmurs, pressing his lips against yours in a hard kiss as he settles himself back between your legs.

Though you really tried to sound confident the other moment, you still feel a little nervous about it and Harry senses it right away. Holding himself up on one arm he cups your face in his other, kissing you slowly, taking his time with his lips, as if he is trying to make you forget about everything else but his lips.

“Are you still sure about this?” he softly asks, looking for any sign of hesitation in your eyes, but there’s none.

“Yeah, I want this. I want you,” you nod and reaching down between your bodies, you take him in your hands again, positioning him to your center.

Harry captures your lips in another passionate kiss as he pushes into you slowly, filling you up inch by inch. You gasp at the sensation, feeling a little tight around him, but not in an uncomfortable way.

“You alright?” he asks once he is almost fully in.

“Yeah, go ahead,” you breathe out with a small nod. He pecks your lips and slowly pushes all the way in before he starts to move out and then slide in again, picking up a not too fast but still firm pace with his movements.

You gradually get used to the feeling of him sliding in and out of you, it’s surely a whole different experience than using a dildo or any kind of toy you are used to. The thought that it belongs to him is bringing you a sense of intimacy you haven’t felt in a long time.

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you dig your fingers into his hot skin that’s coated with a thin layer of sweat as he keeps moving, slowly picking up his pace as you both get closer to the endgame.

“Harry, faster, please!” you plead, legs coming to wrap around his waist so he can thrust in deeper, making you go completely nuts from the way your orgasm is already forming in the pit of your tummy.

He obeys without a second thought, slamming into you faster and harder, making you continuously moan his name, the room is filled with moans and panting, the slapping noise of his hips meeting yours.

Harry buries his face into the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking on the soft skin, definitely leaving a mark, but you couldn’t care less. You just grab a handful of his hair, shutting your eyes closed as you feel yourself nearing the end.

“Harry, I’m gonna cum,” you pant, barely hanging on.

Instead of stretching it out and trying to play with you, Harry clearly wants you to combust. Reaching down between your bodies his index and middle fingers find your clit and he starts circling on it, adding that little extra you needed to fall over the edge.

Moaning and whimpering under his massive body, your orgasm washes over you in waves, bringing you such an intense satisfaction you’ve never felt before. He keeps up his thrusting and just a few moments later his movements fall out of his rhythm and mumbling your name over and over again, he gasps as he rides his high while you’re still trying to catch your breath following your own.

With a heaving chest Harry rolls off of you, gets rid of the condom and throws it to the small bin you keep next to your night stand and then lies flat beside you as you both just silently stare up at the ceiling, very much in the best kind of after sex haze.

“How are you feeling?” he then asks, rolling to his side, his hand coming to rest on your bare stomach. Turning your head to the side you crack a smile at him.

“I feel like I’ve just been properly fucked,” you bluntly answer, making him laugh wholeheartedly. Rolling to your side his arm falls to your waist as you scoot closer, your face only a few inches from his. He is so pretty up close, his features never fail to amuse you, hard to believe he is a real human, lying right next to you.

He closes his eyes a little, letting his head sink into the pillow as his fingers delicately dance up and down your side and back. You feel like you owe him to say something, dropping a major detail about yourself in a heated moment.

“I had two girlfriends,” you speak up, his eyes fluttering open to your words. “The first one was when I was eighteen, we dated for almost a year, then I briefly dated a guy, but it was barely just a month. And I had my second girlfriend when I was twenty. We were together for two years.”

“Are you still friends with them?”

“I still talk to the second one. Her name is Mila. We broke up because she moved to Spain for a job for a year and we didn’t want to do long-distance. Then we just… grew apart, but we still talk sometimes. She lives in Atlanta now, she has a girlfriend and she told me that she is planning to propose soon.”

A soft smile tugs on your lips as you talk about her. She was an important person in your life in a time that was truly challenging. Mila supported your dreams, she went to a lot of your concerts and she was the first one you called when you got your record deal even though you weren’t together anymore. She has seen you go from performing in dodgy bars to rocking the stage of arenas.

“Congrats to her,” Harry smiles through tired eyes. Reaching up he tucks your hair behind your ear before leaning closer he envelopes your lips in a soft kiss.

“We really shouldn’t have done this,” you hum, though you can’t wipe the satisfied smile off your lips.

“Why not?”

“Because we work together.”

“So what? We aren’t allowed to like each other?” he smirks cockily.

“You like me?”

“Thought I made that pretty clear,” he chuckles rubbing his eyes. “But yeah, I do like you, Y/N. A lot.”

“I… like you too,” you admit shyly. Leaning in he kisses you again before pulling you to his chest as he lies on his back.

“Can I stay the night or you want to throw me out?” he hums closing his eyes. Chuckling your snuggle to him, making yourself comfortable, enjoying the warmth of his body after so spending so many nights alone in this bed.

“You can stay, but you have to behave.”

“Oh I will behave my best, don’t worry.” A chuckle rumbles through his chest as you both fall silent and soon enough, drift off to sleep.

You wake up tangled in the sheets, but no one else is lying in bed with you. Blinking the sleep out of your eyes you look around and though there’s no sign of Harry in the room you spot his clothes on the floor. That’s when you hear the pots and pans clinking somewhere outside and you smile to yourself. You pull a t-shirt on with a pair of clean panties before heading out, finding Harry in your kitchen, wearing your pink fluffy robe and nothing else as he is making what seems to be pancakes.

“I don’t remember hiring a chef,” you joke walking closer, sliding a hand down his back as you lean against the counter next to the stove.

“Good morning,” he smiles. “I really wanted for you to wake up but I was afraid my growling stomach might wake you up,” he chuckles as he flips the pancakes in the pan with the spatula.

“Found everything you needed?” you ask, walking over the fridge to grab the orange juice.

“Yeah, you have a neatly organized kitchen,” he hums. “Sorry for snooping around though.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Pouring the juice to two glasses you hand one to him which he thanks softly before placing the golden pancakes to the plate on the counter and pours another bunch into the pan.

Sipping on your juice you watch him move around, making breakfast in your robe and you can’t help but smile at the sight of this fine man in your kitchen. Harry catches you eyeing him and he cocks an eyebrow at you.

“What’s gotten you so smiley?” he asks, his voice still a little groggy and husky.

“I just… really want to kiss you,” you shrug placing the glass to the counter.

“I think we are over this whole asking for permission thing,” he smirks, stepping closer he leans down and kisses you gently, tasting like orange juice and something sweet, he has probably ate one of the pancakes. His hand that’s not holding the spatula finds your waist, the t-shirt bunches up on your side as he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss before you hear sizzling coming from the stove.

“Whoops, not trying to burn the place down,” he chuckles as he turns to the pan and flips the pancakes. You wrap your arms around his waist and kiss his jawline before stepping away from him to set the table for breakfast.

“Do you have any plans this weekend?” he asks over breakfast.

“I have a meeting with my label on Saturday, but nothing else.”

“I’m having a few friends over Saturday evening, kind of a late Grammy nomination celebration. Want to come over?”

“Yeah, that… sounds good,” you nod smiling.

“I was thinking that maybe you could spend the night and then we can finish recording on Sunday.”

“Alright, I’m in.”

Harry takes a quick shower after breakfast before heading out, promising to call you later and though it still feels a little odd that he says goodbye with a kiss, you very much like this new setup between the two of you.

Friday evening Taylor is over at your place, she loves helping you sort out promo stuff you get sent all the time, especially because you let her take whatever you don’t want, half her closet was meant to be worn by you.

Sitting on the floor with boxes surrounding the both of you, you’re digging through them with a bottle of wine, some 90’s music playing in the background, it’s a nice and relaxing evening.

Your phone lights up with a text on the coffee table and you already know it’s from Harry. You haven’t stopped texting since he left from your place just a few days ago.

Harry: Do you think it’s a look for the Grammy’s?

He attached a photo of himself in all denim, looking very much like 2001 Justin Timberlake at the AMA.

Y/N: Should I match and pull a Britney?

Harry: Is that even a question?!

“Okay, who’s the girl?” Taylor asks, making you tear your eyes away from the phone’s screen.

“Huh?”

“Last time I saw you smiling like this at your phone you were talking to that girl you met at that award show. So who is it this time?”

“It’s… not a girl,” you admit, placing your phone back to the coffee table.

“Oh, did a guy finally manage to sweep you off your feet?” Taylor gives you an amused look, genuinely surprised to hear that this time it’s a guy that has you wrapped around his finger. “What is his name?”

“Harry,” you shortly answer and see her eyes widen.

“Wait, is it… Harry as in Harry Styles?”

“Yeah,” you admit with a soft chuckle.

“Oh my God, I knew I could feel some sexual tension between you two at Jeff’s office!”

“There wasn’t any, what are you talking about?”

“You didn’t see it because you were too busy trying to blow off the duet, but it was radiating from him.” She gives you a look, putting the sweater she’s been examining to the side. “So, how are things? Are you guys an item, or…?”

“We didn’t label anything, he just said he likes me and I like him too. And he… spent the night the other day.”

“Wait, what? Spent the night as in—“

“Yes, we had sex,” you confirm blushing.

“That’s like huge! The first man you’ve been with!”

“I know,” you chuckle.

“How was it?”

“Fucking amazing,” you truthfully admit with a sigh. “I didn’t think it could be this good with a guy. Maybe it’s just because it was with him.”

“He surely looks like a guy that takes good care of his girl. So what’s gonna happen? Are you guys together?”

“I don’t know. He doesn’t seem to care about names and labels, he just likes to do whatever he wants and if I’m being honest it’s kind of refreshing. We are just… enjoying whatever we have.”

“That sounds very liberal,” Taylor chuckles. “But I’m happy for you. You’ve been alone for way too long, I think he might do good to you.”

“I really hope,” you nod with a sigh.

“How is the song writing going?”

“We’re finishing up recording on Sunday. I’ll send it to you when it’s done and we can start all the paperwork and everything.”

“Amazing, you are doing great, Y/N, I’m proud of you,” she smiles and climbing over she wraps you in a tight hug.

“Thanks, Tay,” you smile at her. “Alright, now do you want these lace socks or should I burn them?” you ask holding up a whole pack of them, making her laugh.

Harry said it’s just a chill get together, nothing fancy so you decide to wear a khaki maxi skirt with a shirt tucked into it that was a gift from a fan, your first album’s name embroidered to the front. It’s one of your favorite pieces and you like wearing things your fans make you, gives the whole fit a plus.

Arriving to Harry’s place you spot that there are a few cars already parking on the driveway. You leave your overnight bag in the trunk, grab the bottle of wine you’ve brought and head inside. Unlike every time you’ve been here, the silence is now switched up with soft music and chatters, quite a few people lingering around the house already.

Just as you walk farther inside, Harry appears on the stairs and his face lights up at the sight of you.

“Hey! Did you just arrive?” He jogs down the rest of the stairs and walking up to you he pulls you close for a quick kiss without hesitation.

“Yeah. I know you said not to bring anything, but I hate coming to parties empty handed,” you chuckle softly, holding the wine bottle up.

“Thanks. Have you eaten? Jeff is grilling outside, but help yourself with anything.”

“I’ll be fine, thanks.”

“Sarah and Mitch are already here, but come on, let me introduce you to a few people.”

Harry takes your hand, lacing your fingers together with his. He drops the wine off in the kitchen before joining all the other guests. It’s really not that many people, just about thirty of his close circle. Musicians, people he has worked with and stayed close with, people he has known for long. Everyone seems welcoming and open, many already know who you are and it’s always a good conversation start, so there are not many awkward silences, especially because Harry is always near you, making sure you feel comfortable around his friends and it means a lot to you.

“Hey, everything alright?” Harry asks, when he finds you in the kitchen, refilling your glass. He walks up to you, placing a hand to your waist as he kisses into your hair.

“Yeah, your friends are nice,” you smile at him.

“I know, that’s why they are my friends,” he smirks, so full of himself. “Want to hear something interesting?”

“Always.”

“I was talking to Adam and our song came up and then out of nowhere I referred to you as my girlfriend.”

Seemingly he is testing the waters, trying to see how you react to the title, even a little afraid of what you might say, but it doesn’t scare you.

“Yeah? That’s interesting indeed.”

“Are you okay with it? I wasn’t really thinking about it, just slipped out.”

“It’s fine,” you smile at him softly.

“You don’t have to call me your boyfriend, call me whatever you want. It’s just a habit of mine, I guess,” he explains, popping some nuts into his mouth from the little jar on the counter.

“Alright,” you nod. Harry stares back at you for a moment before a smile stretches across his face and leaning down he kisses you shortly before taking your hand and walking back to the living room with you.

The last guests leave around midnight. After bringing your bag up to his bedroom you start cleaning up while Harry walks out the last couple leaving. You start loading the washer and put away things you’ve cleaned before.

“Oh, thank you for cleaning, but you don’t have to. I can take care of it later.”

“It’s nothing, I want to make myself useful,” you chuckle softly as you start the washer. Harry comes up behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he kisses into your neck.

“I have other ideas for that,” he murmurs, his nose nudging the side of your face.

“Yeah? What kind of ideas?” you teasingly ask, closing your eyes when you feel his hand slide under the waist of your skirt, moving down your abdomen until it reaches your core.

“Fun kinds,” he chuckles lowly. His other hand turns your head so his lips could meet yours, you’re still pressed up against him, melting against his chest with your back just right, like you’re two puzzle pieces.

“Fuck,” you breathe out when his fingers wander into your underwear and they start doing their magic. “Harry!” you whine, reacting intensely to his actions.

“I fucking love hearing my name from your pretty mouth,” he growls, kissing you hard before his lips part from yours and he starts bunching up your skirt.

You don’t protest, in fact, you lean forward, grabbing onto the edge of the counter as he pulls down your panties and you hear the zipper of his pants. Glancing over your shoulders you see him pull out a condom from his pocket and you can’t push down a laughter.

“Did you keep that in your pocket all evening?”

“Wanted to be ready when I finally got you all for myself,” he smirks, pulling his cock out of his boxer briefs, rolling on the condom.

His hands come in contact with your hips and ass cheeks, giving them a light squeeze before you feel him lining himself up with you. His palm slides up your back as he pushes into you, both of you moaning at the fulfilling sensation.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” he breathes out as he pushes all the way inside before starting to pull out.

“Go hard, Harry. Please!” you whimper as he starts thrusting into you. Harry lets out a growl and slams into you, making you gasp at the harshness of the movement, but that’s exactly what you wanted.

The kitchen is filled with the noises coming from the washer next to you and the slapping noise of Harry’s hips meeting your ass with every forceful thrust he makes. His ring clad fingers dig into your hips, probably already making them red, but you couldn’t care less. You hold onto the edge of the counter, but then you move one hand to cover his on you, needing to touch him in some kind of way.

Leaning forward Harry kisses your back between your shoulder blades through the thin material of your shirt and you moan his name when he hits the perfect spot inside you.

“Shit, Harry! I’m g-gonna cum!” you gasp, perking your ass up more so he can go as deep as possible.

“Let go for me, baby. Come on!”

“I want to cum with you.”

“Yeah? Then hold on for a little longer, I’m almost there.”

You try your best to keep everything inside you under control, your orgasm is really on the edge and you can only hope he is nearing his end too.

“Harry! Please!”

“Fuck, okay, okay, cum for me! Let me feel you!” he moans and his words bring you the release.

You clench around him, moaning and whimpering and it finally pushes you into his bliss too. His thrusts slow down but they are hard and go deep, helping you ride the last bits of your high.

He pulls out and gets rid of the condom before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you up from your position so he can kiss your lips.

“How about we take a shower while the washer finishes?” he suggests, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Mm, good idea.”

Once the song is fully finished you submit it to your label after an agreement that it should come out through yours, but it wouldn’t be tied to your or Harry’s upcoming album. Everyone seems to love it, Taylor is over the moon when you show her the final version and Jeff is just as happy about it. Having only three more weeks left until the Grammy’s, you send them your request to perform the duet instead of the medley they asked. Their answer comes the next day and they are more than happy to have you premiere your new duet at the show. Everything seems to be on track.

Following a rehearsal for the Grammy performance, you’re staying over at Harry’s, just eating takeout and having a lazy evening after a whole day of working. You’ve put on a new Netflix movie, but every time you look at Harry you feel like his mind is somewhere far away.

“Want to share what’s on your mind?” you ask softly, not wanting to be pushy, you’re just trying to be there for him.

“I’ve just been thinking.”

“About what?” He looks up at you, clearly hesitant whether he should share it with you or not.

“About what you said about your parents.”

“Oh,” is all you can say. Pausing the movie you turn all your attention to him. “What about it?”

“I was just talking to my mom the other day, she is coming here for the Grammy’s and I thought about how you… won’t have your parents there with you.”

“There’s a reason for that.”

“Yeah, but then I thought about how you said you haven’t even let them contact you since then and that maybe they’ve changed their mind about the whole situation. You’ve clearly proved them wrong with building yourself a career, maybe they can now see that what they did was wrong.”

You remain silent, chewing on his words. You’ve been great at not thinking about your parents these past years, it feels weird to have a conversation about them out of nowhere. Harry takes your silence as a warning sign, though that’s not the case.

“You know what? I’m sorry for bringing it up. It’s not really my business, I shouldn’t have brought it up, sorry,” he shakes his head.

“What… would you do if you were in my place?”

Harry looks at you, surprised you are willing to continue the conversation. His hand finds your thigh and he gives it a gentle squeeze.

“I think it might worth a shot to just… contact them. See if they want to maybe get in touch again.”

“And what if they don’t?”

“Then… you know you made the right decision leaving. I know it’s scary, but I think you should take a chance.”

“I’ll… think about it,” you nod shortly.

“Take your time, do whatever you feel comfortable with.” He pulls you into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as you get comfortable in his embrace before starting the movie again.

Two weeks before the show you are headed to a fitting with Harry, your matching sets are nearly done, but they needed you to try them on and make sure they fit just perfectly. True to your and Harry’s extravagant fashion, this performance won’t lack any over the top fits either. It was clear from the beginning that you would be matching, but you made it clear that you want to bring it to the level where you’d be wearing the exact same outfit, so now there are two sets of suits in the making, the pattern of the whole two piece is recalling a kind of space vibe, blues, purples and black meeting in the colors with hundreds of embroidered stars and planets littering the fabric with additional crystal stars to make it even more extra. It’s truly one of a kind, especially paired with the sheer, tulle shirt you both will be wearing underneath.

“We look fucking great, babe,” Harry smirks as the two of you stand next to each other, examining yourself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror on the small podium.

“We really do,” you smirk, satisfied with how the performance is coming together. It’s gonna be the perfect way to celebrate both your first Grammy nominations, a huge milestone in your and Harry’s career as well.

Grabbing his phone he quickly takes a picture in the mirror of the two of you, pulling you to his side as you smile into the camera through the mirror. Then you leave him alone on the podium as they are pinning his pants to make it the perfect size. Stepping to your bag you fish your phone out and reading just the first few words of Taylor’s last message she sent about ten minutes ago, you feel all blood rushing out of your face. Tapping on the notification you start reading.

Taylor: Please don’t lose your head, but we are dealing with this.

She attached several articles and you start digging through them.

“Is Harry Styles dating his new duet partner?”

“Harry Styles cozied up with Y/N Y/L/N at dinner with friends.”

��Can we expect some hot make out sessions at the Grammy’s from Harry and his new beau?”

And then there’s the absolute worst.

“Is Y/N Y/L/N going to take Harry Styles to court too?”

“Shit, shit, shit,” you mumble under your breath, vigorously typing back to Taylor to take them down. Two pictures have been leaked from the time you had dinner with Sarah and Mitch, it’s so odd because it’s been weeks since then, where were these pictures all along? Not that it matters, all you want is for them to be gone.

Against your better judgment, you go online and check your social media even though you know you shouldn’t snoop around now that it’s out there. No surprise, you and Harry are trending, but the reactions are very much mixed.

The impact of your case with Jordan is still major. It doesn’t matter that you won, people are still questioning whether he said the truth or not and now they are afraid you might drag Harry down just like you did with Jordan. That you are just trying to use his fame to get more attention and then ruin his career, making a victim out of yourself again, because apparently that’s what you’ve been doing.

You’re not only being dragged, but all of a sudden, nothing is about the music and the art you are making, people just want to know if you’re fucking Harry Styles or not. A lot of the times you’re not even named, only referred to Harry’s new lover or what’s worse, his hookup. You’ve lost all the credit you worked so hard for and for what? Because you dared to have dinner with a man?

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Harry asks walking up to you. Your eyes snap up at him and he immediately sees the shock and anger in them, setting panic in him as well. “What is it?”

“The fucking… pictures,” you hiss handing him your phone so he can see the articles for himself. He scrolls through them with furrowed eyebrows, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip before handing the phone back once he has gotten to the end of it.

“Let’s finish this up and head home, okay? We’ll figure it all out.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and you nod, trying your best to keep your anger at bay while the designers finish up on the outfits.

An hour later you walk into your place, talking on the phone with Taylor, discussing the situation though there’s not much you can do at this point. It’s all out, the pictures can’t be taken down. She suggests to just keep quiet for now, she’ll call Jeff to see what could be done as damage control.

Throwing your phone to the bed you feel your whole body shaking from the anger, it’s agonizing to know there’s nothing you can do to stop it.

“Hey, it’s gonna be fine. We’ll figure it out,” Harry speaks up, trying his best to calm you down, but it’s not really working this time.

“Stop saying it, you don’t know that for sure. I can’t believe this bullshit is happening all over again,” you breathe out shaking your head.

“Again?”

“Yes! I’m being fucking dragged for something I shouldn’t be.”

“People will always have controversial opinion on everything, you can’t get them all to like you.”

“It’s not about liking, Harry!” you snap. “I couldn’t give a damn about people liking me, but they discredit my work. Have you read those articles? I’m seen with a man and suddenly, I’m not even seen as an artist anymore. I’m not even my own person in some of them, just a girl who is linked to you. How is that fair?” “It’s not, but stressing yourself about it until you’re sick is not gonna help anything,” he retorts in a firm voice.

“So I should just sit around and so nothing while watching all my work go to shit?”

“Nothing is going to shit! This is how it goes, there’s always something people talk about but they will forget about it in a week. That doesn’t take anything away from what you’ve proved through your career.”

“Now that’s a lie. Because if they did forget about things in a week, they wouldn’t be bringing up the whole Jordan thing now. I dared to stand up for myself against a man and look where it took me to! I’m the drama queen, the lying bitch who likes to ruin men for apparently no reason and they see me as a threat when it comes to you too. People are talking about how I’ll take you to court as well, they think I’m just using you even though they know nothing about me! And the worst part is that it wouldn’t be like this if I weren’t a woman. Whatever happens, however we react to the situation, it will never have the same effect on your career than it will have on mine.”

“So what, you’ll just live your life without ever doing anything that’s gonna upset people? There will always be someone who’ll judge whatever you do, you can’t do anything about that and if you let them get to you now, they’ll know they can mess with you easily.”

“So I’m just supposed to ignore everything? And not do a single thing about it? It’s easy for you, you’ll walk away from this without a scratch on your name, because you are a white man who can do no wrong in the eyes of the world.”

“Okay, now you are being mean for no reason.”

“I’m telling you the truth,” you retort. “And you know what else is part of the truth? That I’m not even having it the worse. There are women who are even more targeted because of their religion, their skin color, their nationality or sexuality and people don’t even realize how hard it is for any of us. I’m sick of the injustice we have to live with just because of our gender!”

“I do acknowledge the problem on hand, I’m aware of it and I’m all for doing against it, but we are not gonna solve it instantly, it’s a long process. Sometimes we just have to pull back a little, be smart about things.”

“They will never stop about this,” you shake your head, stubbornly clinging onto your opinion. “I won’t be seen as a serious artist anymore, just some girl who was linked to you. It’s fucking done, over.”

“Y/N, what are you trying to say?” Harry asks with caution.

“Exactly what you are thinking about,” you reply with a bitter laugh. “I can’t be a respected artist if I’m with you.”

“That’s not true. It will die down, they will see that you are more than just who you’re dating and everything will be fine.”

“What’s not fair is that I have to work for it to be fine while you are still the same artist you were before it all blew up. Don’t you think it’s unfair?” you call him out and part of you knows you’re being mean and unnecessarily rude to him, but you just can’t control it any longer. You need to let it out and unfortunately, he is the one who is here to take the blame.

“It is, but what are you expecting me to do about it? Release a statement asking people to only talk about my dating life to make it equal? What can be done is that we try to fight this together, show them that you’re more than just a woman who is linked to a man in any kind of way.”

“Yeah, like realization is just gonna hit them,” you snap. “I’m at a turning point in my career, Harry. Whether I win a Grammy or not, this time is going to have an impact on my future. If I’m seen as just a girl linked to you, I’ll never make it. I’ll be forgotten and dragged again and I can kiss my career goodbye.”

You know you were way too harsh, but it’s what you think to be the truth. You didn’t fight your way to this point in life just to be seen as a man’s girlfriend rather than the artist you truly are. And right now, you can’t see yourself get out of this situation without letting go of Harry.

“Y/N, please don’t let this ruin what we have. We can get through this, you can’t let them control your life this much. Who are they to tell you what to do? That’s not the Y/N I know, come on!”

He tries to step closer, reaching out for you, but you take a step back, wanting to keep the distance between the two of you.

“I would prefer to be alone now,” you sternly say, folding your arms on your chest, closing yourself off from him as you don’t even look at him, because if you did, you know you would break.

“Y/N, please don’t do this, we—“

“Alone!” you snap, cutting him off.

He stares at you, hoping you might change your mind, but you’re quite set on this. He knows you well enough to know you won’t budge anytime soon. He lets out a shaky breath and slowly turning around, he heads towards the door as you’re already fighting your tears back. He stops right before he is about to walk out.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N,” he quietly says before walking out, the door shutting closed behind him.

The sobs start immediately and you fall to the ground, tears soaking your cheeks, already missing him more than anything in your life. You really thought it would be different this time, that things might get better, but you were naïve.

The next two days go by in a blur. The whole fucking internet is filled with those damn pictures of you and Harry, nothing has been about any of your Grammy nominations or even about your music, you’ve officially became the woman Harry Styles is dating.

Harry was titled as a Grammy nominee in every goddamn writing that surfaced, he was completely credited for his work while you could be happy if your name was written correctly. With every new article, your faith in having the career you worked so hard for lessened until you felt hopeless. You’ve officially became a dumb celebrity, just a woman who was known to be dating a man in the industry.

On the evening of the second day you have enough. You just read yet another degrading piece of you that was clearly written by a man, they once again talked about your case with Jordan, joking about history repeating itself and you swear you could scream and throw a tantrum like a baby at how useless and helpless you feel.

You put your laptop to the side and reach for your phone, dialing Taylor’s number.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” she asks right away, knowing well how hard these past days have been. She came over the evening you sent Harry away and tried to comfort you, but nothing could help you that night.

“Hey, I want to ask you to do something and not try to talk me out of it.”

“Oh God…” she sighs, already knowing you’re about to do something stupid according to her.

“I don’t want to perform at the Grammy’s.”

“What? With all due respect, are you fucking stupid?”

“I’m not stupid. But I don’t want to do it.”

“Well, this has got to be the most ridiculous move you’ve ever tried to pull. Why do you want to throw such a huge thing away?”

“I can’t… sing that song with Harry. If I stand on the stage and sing with him… I just can’t do it, Tay.”

“Of course you can! Suck it up! I know you miss him and it fucking sucks what’s happening, but you have to do it!” she tries to convince you, but you’ve already made your mind up.

“No. I’m not doing it. Please let them know that it’s going to be just Harry performing.”

And with that, you end the call.

Taylor knows better than to try to fight you, she doesn’t call back though you know she wants to murder you right now probably, but she’ll come around, she always does. You make yourself a tea hoping to relax your nerves with it though you know nothing can help you now. You wish you had someone to rely on, someone you could talk to right now, but usually Taylor is that person to you and lately Harry has been your support, but you can’t call either of them. The rest of the people you consider friends… they are just not that close to you. You’re left alone, again.

As your gaze wanders over to your phone, a thought pops up in your mind that makes your hands sweat. You think back to the conversation you had with Harry about your parents and you can’t shake the urge off to finally make that call.

“Fuck it,” you breathe out and grab the device, opening up the contacts until you find what you’ve been looking for. Your thumb hovers above the call button for a while before you finally tap on it and start the call. It rings four times before a voice speaks up on the other end.

“Halo?”

“Hi mom,” you reply and hear a gasp from her at your voice.

There’s less than a week left until the Grammy’s. For your own sake, you haven’t been online outside of answering work emails, you just can’t deal with the shit show your life has become on the internet.

You haven’t left your home unless you really needed to go somewhere, did most of your meetings over the phone or videochat and postponed a fitting as well. You’ve officially caved yourself up in your apartment and you are not planning on leaving anytime soon.

Taylor keys herself in, she hasn’t even mentioned that she might drop by, but you’re not surprised. She is probably here to try to bring you out of this pity party you’ve been holding for days. When she sees you lying on the couch in sweats and messy, unwashed hair, she sighs, shaking her head.

“You really need to pull your shit together, Y/N.”

“I’m fine,” you mumble, pulling your fuzzy blanket up to your chin.

“No, you’re not. This is not the bad bitch I know.”

“Bad bitches have bad days too.”

“This is not a bad day, you look like a fucking zombie. This is not what a Grammy nominee should look like days before the big show.”

“Doesn’t matter, it’s not like I’m performing or anything,” you shrug, but the look in Taylor’s eyes make yours go wide. “Taylor, I’m not performing, you informed them about it, right?”

“This is why I’m here,” she sighs walking closer, sitting on the other end of the couch. “I never cancelled on your performance.”

“I told you I’m not doing it!” “I know, but I was hoping you might come around. But you seem to be still acting like a stupid bitch, so that didn’t happen. However, I’ve gotten an interesting email today.”

She pulls out her phone and opens the email before handing it over to you. Shooting her an unhappy look you start reading.

-

Hi Taylor!

I got your email address from Jeff, wanted to write to you myself. I’ve officially pulled out of the Grammy performance so it’s going to be only Y/N in it. We are also working on a statement to release over the whole ordeal and my lawyers have been after the bigger gossip sites to get the articles down. I want Y/N to have the Grammy experience she deserves and I know it can’t happen with me in the performance. Tell her that I’m sorry for ruining it for her, she deserves so much more. I’m sorry she was brought into this.

I hope to see you soon, take care!

Harry

-

With parted lips, you look up at Taylor who is smiling softly at you.

“He… pulled out for me.”

“He did. Talked to Jeff on the phone, they have already let them know Harry wouldn’t be performing, they will make it official tomorrow.”

“But he deserves this just as much as I do. He is a nominee too.”

“Well, seems like he values you more than his own success.” Taylor lets out a long sigh and scooting closer she places a hand to your knee. “Look, I know you’re upset about how the media treats you just because you were seen out with Harry, and I know that you’re afraid of getting labeled as just the girl he dates and not get taken seriously as an artist, but you can’t let them stop you from living your life how you want to. There will always be judgment, there will always be men who are worse than trash and want to bring you down, but you are stronger than that. Pushing Harry away and being alone for the rest of your life is not a solution. What you can do to put them to their place is give them a big fuck you, date the hottest man in the industry and continue being the bad bitch that you are, fighting against the way you are being treated. Speak up, show them who they are dealing with, share your truth, like you always do! But you can do all of this with Harry by your side. You deserve to be happy and he makes you happy, don’t make yourself miserable because we live in a world where men are still placed above women. Fight for the change but don’t forget to think about yourself as well in the process.”

You feel the tears sting in your eyes. The weight of this past week is just way too heavy to carry, but Taylor is right and you are realizing that you’ve made it harder for yourself. The sobs come before you could stop yourself and Taylor pulls you into a hug.

“I know, I know. It fucking sucks, but you can’t let them win,” she soothes, running her hands up and down your back. “Show them how big of a bad bitch you are and get the man too.”

“You think Harry still wants to be with me?”

“I think that man would be on his knees for you in a heartbeat if you asked,” she chuckles pulling back. “Statement about the performance will be released tomorrow. That’s how long you have to figure it out,” she tells you with a knowing look before leaving you alone with your thoughts, however you don’t have to think long what you have to do.

You have not been the only one these past days took a toll on. The fight the two of you had left Harry completely drained, angry and helpless. He hated that he was the reason you weren’t credited as the talented artist that you are and he couldn’t stop thinking about ways to make it better. That’s when he came up with the idea of pulling out of the performance.

Now he is ready to spend the remaining days until the award show hidden from the world, not even leaving the house. Everyone close to him knows he is better not to be disturbed now, so he is quite surprised when the security system lets him know that someone has arrived.

As you drive up to his house you spot him immediately, stepping out the front door with a shocked look on his face, probably expecting you to be the last person to be there at the moment. You wipe your sweaty palms against your thighs as you walk up to him, feeling anxious to see him and talk to him, especially after the last conversation you had.

“Hey, I’m sorry for coming here without calling or anything…” you shyly start, stopping in front of you.

“Don’t be silly. Come… Come on in,” he clears his throat inviting you inside.

You’ve walked through this front door so many times in the past almost two months, but this is the first time you feel so odd, standing out, like you have no place in here and it’s all thanks to yourself.

“Do you want something to drink? Are you hungry?” Harry walks past you but then turns to face you, talking to you with such warmth and kindness, even after how you acted, putting blame on him for something he has no control over. It completely breaks you and can’t stop your eyes from watering as you look at him. You really hoped you’ve run out of tears in the past days, but it seems like that’s not the case at all.

“Harry, I’m so sorry,” you breathe out shakily and you step closer to each other at the same time, he envelopes you in his strong arms and you fist his shirt at his chest. “I know it was none of your fault, I just got so desperate and afraid that it might ruin what I worked so hard for.”

“I know. And you were right about everything. Everything you said was true and I’m sorry you have to deal with it.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t right to be mad at you just because you have different privileges, it’s not like you can change who you are. So I’m really sorry about that, and also for pushing you away when you were just trying to be there for me. I was so stupid,” you breathe out, wiping the tears sliding your cheeks down away.

“You just panicked, it’s okay. Don’t apologize for wanting to protect yourself.”

Resting your forehead against his shoulder you wait for your sobs to die down before you look back up at him. Reaching up he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, smiling down at you warmly and that smile alone ensures you that you are exactly where you are supposed to be, with the right person.

“Taylor showed me the email you sent her,” you bring it up, clearing your throat.

“You deserve it all to yourself so people can see how amazing of an artist you are.”

“I’m not doing it without you,” you shake your head stubbornly. “We wrote the song together and we’re gonna perform it together or else I’m not doing it either.”

“Y/N, you know if we step on that stage together they are gonna twist the whole thing and make it about something else. I want you to have this opportunity for your career without me ruining it with just my presence.”

“Fuck them, if they take it as something it’s not. They are not gonna take the chance away from us to perform our song. If they are such fucking dumbasses that they make it all about what’s between us, that’s their own personal problem. If I need to, I’ll go on a Twitter rant and tell them this myself. I want you on stage with me or else I’m not doing it either.”

Harry breathes out through his nose, pressing his lips together as he stares back at you, probably realizing you are dead serious about pulling out of the performance and he is right. He doesn’t even know you were the first one to cancel on it, you’d do it again without hesitation.

“I guess we are performing then,” he cracks a small smile and throwing your arms around his neck you pull him down, lips smashing against his, the kiss mingling with giggles and smiles.

Harry wraps his arms tight around your waist, pulling you up from the ground as he spins you around, making you squeal as you hold onto him.

“I have to call Jeff to call the Grammy’s not to post the statement,” he hums against your lips and he pecks them a few more times before letting go of you to quickly make a call to his manager.

You move over to the couch in his living room as he talks to Jeff, who is luckily very understanding about the sudden change. Hugging your knees to your chest you watch him pace the floor, exchanging a few more words with the man on the phone before ending the call, his gaze dropping to you again. Sitting beside you, he kisses your temple, dropping an arm around your shoulders as you lean against him, head resting on his chest.

“I called my mom,” you drop the bomb suddenly and you can feel him tense up for a moment, probably shocked by your words.

“You did?”

“Yeah.” Lifting your head your gaze meets his as you carry on. “She was… very shocked to hear my voice.”

“I bet,” he hums. “What did you talk about?”

“I just… asked how they are doing and told her that I’ve been thinking a lot about them. She sounded genuinely touched by it and said I’m always welcomed for dinner or lunch if I’d like to see them.”

“That’s amazing! See, I told you they would love to hear from you!”

“Yeah,” you smile at him softly. “I think I want to go over sometime after the Grammy’s.”

“I’m sure it’s going to go well.”

“Would you please come with me?”

Your question catches him off-guard he seems surprised that you would want him there, but then his expression softens as he leans down and kisses your forehead.

“I would love to, if you want me there.”

“I do,” you nod.

“Then it’s settled,” he smiles warmly as you lay your head back to his chest, his fingers gently dancing up and down your arm and for once in your life you finally feel settled, like everything is going to be fine.

Highlights of the 63rd Annual Grammy Awards: Y/N Y/L/N blows up stage with new hit duet

The killer duo surprised us all with a brand new duet titled Floating Through Space, performed it together on their big night. Wearing matching galaxy themed suits, Y/L/N and Styles have closed off the evening with probably the most success, the latter winning two out of his three nominations, receiving the award for Best Music Video and Best Pop Vocal Album with his latest album, Fine Line, while Y/L/N was titled best new artist, becoming a Grammy winner early in her career.

Tabloids blew up earlier this month when the two singers were photographed cozied up at dinner with friends, speculations started about their possible romance, but Y/L/N has made a clear statement on the question with her red carpet appearance before the award show. Wearing a head to toe black Gucci gown paired with a dramatic cape, the message “I’M AN ARTIST, ASK ME ABOUT MY ART” painted onto it in red, making a bold statement about her opinion on the way the media has been treating the star.

Both singers remained silent on their alleged romance, but proved to be the best of their time with their joined performance with their new emotional duet. Following the song’s debut on stage it was released to the public as a single right away, taking over all charts with its overwhelming success.

Listen to Floating Through Space now on Spotify and Apple Music!

Your knuckles are turning white from the tight grip on the steering wheel as you stare up at the home you grew up in. It looks almost the same, sometime through the years you haven’t been around your parents have painted it a light blue color from the paste yellow, but it’s still… the same.

“Hey.”

Turning to your right you look at Harry who is smiling at you warmly as his hand reaches over and squeezes your knee gently.

“It’s going to be fine. I’m sure they’ll be happy to see you, you’re still their daughter.”

“That’s not what they told me the last time I was here,” you whisper, feeling your throat closing up.

“We all say things in the heat of the moment. Seeing how happy they were about this lunch proves that they regret what happened.”

Nodding you take a deep breath to get ready for whatever is going to happen. Leaning over the console you pull Harry in for a kiss and it calms your nerves a little. Getting out of the car he takes your hand and squeezes it to let you know he’ll be right by your side all along. As you walk up to the front porch a sense of strong nostalgia washes over you.

You didn’t have a bad childhood, your parents provided you so much growing up, it’s sad to think what it has become. In a way you feel more anxious than walking the red carpet a week ago for the Grammys even though you’re just meeting your parents, but this is a turning point in your life that needed to come sooner or later.

“I’m right here, baby. It’s going to be fine,” Harry murmurs, kissing your forehead before you ring the doorbell, feeling weird that you come here as a guest, not as someone who belongs here.

You hear footsteps approaching on the other side, two frames appear through the clouded glass of the front door and then it flies open, pushing all air out of your lungs, clinging tightly onto Harry’s hand. There’s a moment of silence and just staring at each other before the tiniest smile tugs on your lips.

“Hi mom, hi dad.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fiction #harry styles au #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles x you #harry styles x reading #harry styles x y/n

[theweasleysredhair]

In Safe Hands [G.W.]

Character: George Weasley

Word Count: 4339

Requested?: Yes/No

Summary: George is just very attractive and his hands are even more attractive.

WARNING: this is NSFW, 18+, smutty, sexy times, idk how else to say it. including oral (female receiving). also a lot of mentions of hands, arms and veins bc i canny control myself apparently.

Tags: @gracemayhateyou @acciotwinz @rexorangecouny @mischi3f-manag3d @obsessedwithrandomthings @whizbangs-78 @heart-of-tempered-steel @harrysweasleys @ickle-ronniekins @wand3ringr0s3 @theweirdsideofstuff | message or send an ask to be added to my smut taglist - you must be 18+!

Disclaimer: Gif isn't mine, credit to whoever made it

A/n: i put two requests for my event together as i decided to write a full fic based on george’s hands purely because prompt 9, which both requesters selected, refers to hands - enjoy!!

Prompts used:

3. “I may or may not have left some... marks.”

9. “God I love your hands.” “Let’s put them to good use then.”

23. “Didn’t know you wanted to get into my pants that badly.”

49. “Behave.”

~*~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK! REBLOGS ARE ABSOLUTELY FINE! <3

+ + + + +

You’d always liked George - why wouldn’t you? He was funny, charming, handsome. You’d be stupid not to. It had started back in Hogwarts - you were friends with the twins; close friends. And that’s all you thought of them as, until one fateful day in your 7th year where you made the regrettable decision to meet the twins after one of their last games of Quidditch before Umbridge had banned them, and George had emerged from the Gryffindor tent freshly showered, shirt hanging over his shoulder, trousers low on his hips.

And that’s when you’d realised you liked George as much more than just friends.

You hadn’t known how to deal with him at first, how to act around him, once you’d realised how you felt. Because every time he laughed, every time he ran a hand through his hair, you felt yourself positively swooning, as cliché as it sounded.

It took a lot not to accidentally blurt out your feelings to him, not that you were helped by Fred, who noticed the slight differences in your behaviour - holding onto hugs from George a tad longer, the way you looked at him when he didn’t realise, how flustered you got when he’d rest a hand on your knee - and made it his mission to make your feelings as obvious as possible in front of his brother.

George must’ve been the most oblivious person however, as he never noticed the hints or the longing smiles. Or maybe that was because he was busy trying to stop Fred from making his own crush on you so obvious, trying to hide his own longing smiles, and the way his eyes lit up when he made you laugh.

The twins had left Hogwarts soon after you’d realised your feelings, in a fit of fireworks, and then suddenly you were dealing with Umbridge alone, with her detentions alone. Not that you blamed them for leaving at all - you knew they were out living their dream and all you could wish to do was support them. It didn’t make being at Hogwarts any easier though, dealing with all the Educational Decrees. However, you thought the space and distance would help you to get over George, and it did.

Until you saw him again in his shop. The twins had sent you a letter in the middle of your NEWTs asking you to come and work for them, an offer that you gladly accepted, however arriving at their store on your first day - after the initial overwhelming feeling of pride at seeing how well their store was doing, how successful they were - you knew you weren’t at all over him.

He stood there, a smirk etched on his face, suit fitted to him as he crossed his arms over his chest, standing on the stairs in the shop as he looked down at you, and your felt your heart racing, cursing yourself over still being so hung up on the man.

His eyes slowly took in your appearance - you’d worn a cute sundress, due to the warm weather, your hair falling loosely around your shoulders and George felt his own heartbeat quicken.

He’d fancied you since his 6th year, most likely before that, the realisation hitting him when he had seen you dancing with some prat from Ravenclaw at the Yule Ball, when you should have gone with him. After that, after seeing how utterly stunning you’d looked that day, with your ballgown and hair done, he knew he’d never be able to look at you the same.

And even now, after not seeing you for months, you didn’t fail to leave him speechless, so effortlessly beautiful in his eyes that he couldn’t help but look at you as though you’d hung all the stars in the sky.

“Long time no see, eh love?” He spoke, moving down the last couple of steps and towards you, “Still gorgeous as ever.”

You grinned at him, “Always the charmer, eh Weasley?”

He chuckled, opening his arms to wrap them around you to bring you into a warm hug, one you gladly accepted as you wrapped your own arms around his waist, taking a deep breath as the familiar scent of his cologne enveloped you, making you grin. He rested his chin on your head and closed his eyes, smiling as he felt you nuzzle into his chest.

Merlin, he thought being away from you had lessened his feelings for you but in that moment, with you in his arms, he was struck with the same realisation he’d had in his 6th year - that he was in love with you.

And, unbeknownst to him, as your grip around him tightened a little, the hug lasting a tad too long to be friendly, however neither of you mentioning anything about it, you’d come to the same realisation.

Which brought you to now.

Being around George again was amazing, you had to admit. And whilst you hated the way you kept fumbling with products, or how clumsy you’d get around him - something Fred still loved to tease you about - you also adored how he made you feel, how happy, how content - he made your life that much better, a light in an ever increasing darkening world.

You’d been working with the twins for a few months, and it was amazing, truly a better job than you could have predicted. What made the job difficult, however, was trying to keep cool when George walked around looking like he did, interacting with the guests, making the children laugh at his jokes.

Godric, could he get any more attractive?

He’d seemed to up the ante this week, almost on purpose you swore, constantly walking around in just his shirt and tie due to the summer heat, the lack of a jacket meaning you were faced with doing your job and working with customers whilst also trying not to stare at the way his shirt fit snugly around him, or how his forearms were showcased due to him rolling his sleeve to his elbows, veins appearing any time he tended his arms, whether that be due to moving things around the shop, demonstrating how certain products worked, or lifting and moving heavy equipment.

The latter of which currently occurring, as Fred had left George alone to deal with a delivery after the shop had shut.

You were stood at the Pygmy Puff display, moving cages around and making sure they were well looked after when you heard some grunts coming from the store room, as if someone had picked up something with a lot of weight. You then heard footsteps behind you, making you pause with the last - feisty - Pygmy Puff in your hand, the rest having been put into their cages.

You turned around, breath hitching in your throat as you took in the sight before you. Namely, George Weasley holding what appeared to be quite a heavy box, if his staggered breathing was anything to go by. He’d shed his jacket somewhere in the back, along with his waistcoat, leaving him in just his shirt, which was tightly fitted and, you noticed as he placed the box down on top of another cardboard box, stuck to him a little with sweat from the heavy lifting. His sleeves were rolled to his elbows, showcasing his forearms, and you found yourself gulping as your eyes wandered down the prominent veins, to his large hands, one of which was pulled through his messy ginger hair, pushing the strands out of his face.

And he had no idea.

He had no idea at all that suddenly you couldn’t focus, that suddenly all the breath had left your lungs, that suddenly all you could think about was how his hands would feel on you, holding your waist, gripping your hips, squeezing your thighs. How his fingers would feel inside of you.

George looked over at you and shot you a grin, one that made your heart race even more than it already was, “Bloody big delivery today, eh? ‘S what happens when I let Fred order the ingredients.”

You gave him an almost starstruck smile, which he accepted gladly, before reaching up and undoing the top two buttons of his shirt, pulling at his tie to loosen it, your jaw dropping almost comically as you secretly watched him.

He noticed halfway through his action that you’d gotten extremely silent, your mouth open ever so slightly and George wondered if it was because of him. Merlin he hoped so, because if you wanted him as much as he wanted you, well, he’d be happy to take you right there and then against the till counter.

He turned away to disappear back into the stockroom, biting his lip as indecent thoughts filled his mind, heading to grab the next couple of boxes.

Back on the shop floor, you took a deep breath, rubbing your eyes and cursing yourself. You should not be stood ogling your best friend, much less your best friend who was also your boss, no matter how attractive he happened to be. You should be going through the boxes to separate ingredients out, helping with the displays and doing your job.

But no, instead you were stood, still holding the Pygmy Puff that was now trying to escape your hands, imagining all the things you wanted that man to do to you. And what you wanted to do to him.

Merlin.

You popped the Pygmy Puff into the cage, and wandered over to the box that George had just brought in, trying to push the thoughts of how you could see the outline of his abs through his shirt away as you began pulling out different ingredients.

He came back around the corner, holding two boxes this time, the top one covering most of his face due to the size, allowing you to stare longingly at the way his fingers were wrapped around the edges of the boxes, gripping tightly. You bit your lip as he turned from you to place the boxes down, watching as the shirt moved closely against his back, accentuating his shoulder blades as he bent down and Merlin did you wish you could see his muscles without the shirt.

“Need any help?” You managed to stutter out, trying to act as if you hadn’t been staring at him. Still bending over as he sorted out the boxes, he paused his actions and looked up at you, shooting you a cheeky grin. “Don’t you worry at all, love, I’ve got it, I am extremely strong after all,” he winked, and Godric, didn’t you know it, “You just stand there looking your best, that’s all the motivation I need.”

And suddenly you’d forgotten how to speak, how to breathe. You just nodded, though he didn’t see as his attention was back on the box in front of him. You watched him sift through the products, fingers moving nimbly, occasionally bringing out the odd jar or packet, sometimes throwing it in the air and catching it before placing it to one side.

He brought out a smaller box of vials, which he held from the top, placing it in front of you and gripping it tighter to emphasise his hands when he saw your gaze lingering.

He smiled to himself, pushing his sleeves up - making you swallow harshly - as he pretended not to know you were watching him, all the while flexing just for your benefit.

You couldn’t help the way your eyes kept drifting over to him, couldn’t help that watching him be so efficient with flipping glass jars in the air and holding different ingredients made you that much more attracted to him. You couldn’t help your thoughts racing, thinking about asking him to use his hands on you and-

“Godric, I love your hands.”

Your eyes widened in shock as his head turned to you, your own hand covering your mouth as you realised what you’d just said, and you began stammering out, “I-I... I didn’t mean- I- George-“

George gave a pretend look of shock, as if he hadn’t purposely been working you up for the last however-long. “You like my hands?” He asked with a smirk, glancing down at them before his gaze fell back on you, taking in the sight of you being so flustered. You got lost in the way his eyes held yours, and you could do nothing but nod slowly, making George bite his lip and step forward.

His heart was racing at your confession, not quite believing it was happening but very much wanting to do something with that information, “If you like them so much, let’s put them to good use.”

“W-what?”

George looked you up and down, his tongue darting out to wetten his bottom lip, “You like my hands, and I wanna use them on you, darling. You going to let me?”

You took in the way he was looking at you - like all his dreams had come true, like you were the only thing he cared about, like he loved you. “Absolutely,” you breathed out.

And suddenly his hands were on your waist, bringing you closer to him as he brushed his lips against yours, savouring the first few moments of you being so close to him, before kissing you properly. His lips were soft, moving against yours in a way that, had you not have known any different, you may have thought he’d been kissing you for years. It felt familiar, yet with an added layer of something new. A kiss that made your skin feel like it was on fire, that, as he angled his head to deepen it, made your stomach flutter, and mind race.

It was so perfect, even with the occasional bump of your noses - so perfectly George - that you didn’t want it to end. He pulled away a little, pressing more kisses to your lips before he began moving down to your neck, pressing open mouthed, hot kisses to your skin, making you let out small, breathy moans, feeling him smile against you.

You ran your hands down his chest, playing gently with the buttons and pulling his tie completely off, and heading towards his belt as he licked the skin just below your ear.

Beginning to unbuckle his belt, you also “accidentally” brushed against the evident tent in his pants, and he pulled away from you to grin, “Didn’t know you wanted to get into my pants that badly, love.”

You rolled your eyes playfully and bit your lip at him, making his heart beat a little faster, “Your fault for bringing that delivery in so attractively.”

You’d managed to unbuckle his belt and pulled him back in for a kiss, him mumbling against your lips, “Might get Fred to order stock more often then if this is what happens.”

He led you over to the stairs, stumbling a little up the bottom two steps before trapping you against the banister for a moment, holding you close to him as he continued to kiss you, his tongue easily gliding into your mouth.

Between kisses, and George pulling your shirt off, you made it to the apartment above the shop, heading down the hallway and bumping into the cabinet that was stood between the bathroom and Fred’s room, before arriving at his bedroom door, which he nudged open with his feet, bringing you inside.

He held you by the waist, fingertips tightening a little as he pulled away from the kiss for air, and to lift you up so he could throw you onto the bed, the impact making your breasts bounce and George breathed out a, “Fuck, c’mere.”

He crawled on top of you, your back arching into the mattress as your arms looped around his neck, playing with the tufts of ginger hair at the base of his neck as you brought him back in for another kiss. Your hands moved down to begin unbuttoning his shirt, something you’d been imagining all day, before throwing it to the other side of the room, George doing the same with your bra.

A few moments later, you’d both shed the rest of your clothes, leaving you bare against him, breasts pressed against his chest, his arms either side of your head, supporting his weight above you. You could feel his breath hitting your hitting your lips, his face centimetres from yours.

In stark contrast to the compromising position you were in, George looked down at you with love, a look that warmed your heart as you gave him a small, almost shy, smile.

“You know I- uh- I love you, right? I’m in love with you, darling.” He looked almost vulnerable as he said that, his eyes flickering across your face as his lips parted a little.

You lifted your head up so your forehead rested against his, hands clutching his shoulders, “I’m in love with you too, Georgie.”

“Me or my hands?” He joked, making you shake your head and laugh. You pretended to think for a moment before replying, “Maybe both.”

“Let’s see if I can make you come from just my hands then, shall we?” He grinned, making your heart race as his fingers danced down your stomach before pressing against your clit.

“So wet for me,” He commented, circling it slowly, smirking at the way you let out little breathy moans, before he entered a finger into you, taking advantage of the way your back arched in order to take one of your nipples into his mouth. He sucked on it, gently nibbling as he pushed his finger in and out of you, before adding a second finger, stretching you out a little.

“George,” you breathed out as he moved to your other breast.

He continued moving his fingers against you, in you, and you felt the familiar feeling of pleasure building in your stomach.

After being so wound up from watching him, you knew it wouldn’t take much more to reach your high, and as he continued to kiss your breasts, you breathed out slowly, almost embarrassed at how quickly he’d managed to turn you into a pile of mush at his touch.

“I’m close,” you whimpered, as George moved from your breasts to your collarbone, his thumb adding a little more pressure to your clit as his fingers moved.

Picking up his pace ever-so-slightly, he brought you closer to your high. He felt you clench around his fingers and pressed a kiss to your jawline. “Come for me princess,” he whispered against your ear in a low tone, making you shiver.

George watched the way you closed your eyes, mouth open and head tilted back as your high washed over you, pleasure running through you, and felt himself harden at the sight.

His fingers continued moving against you, although at a slower pace, and your hips jolted towards him at the overstimulation, “‘S a good girl.” He leant forward, pressing his body against yours as he kissed you gently.

“Think you can come for me again, love?”

You were breathing heavily from your first orgasm, though with the way his fingers were moving against you, you knew you’d be reaching your second before you could properly catch your breath. You nodded at him before he began trailing back down your stomach and settled himself between your legs.

You shivered as he lightly pressed kisses on the soft skin of your inner thigh, his hands squeezing your hips, before he licked into you, making you gasp out and clutch the bedsheets tightly. Letting out a moan as he pushed a finger back into you, you closed your eyes, head falling back against the headboard as you breathed out heavily from the way his tongue was moving against you.

You bucked your hips against him involuntarily, causing his free hand to push your hips back down and he looked up from between your legs, his eyes catching yours as he smirked against you, “Behave, darling.” You moaned as the vibrations of just those two words travelled through you, the hand not enclosed around his heading towards his messy hair and running through it, pulling at strands as you felt his tongue flatten against you.

Feeling your second orgasm creeping up on you, you wrapped your legs around his head and let out a moan as you felt George groan against you. Your second high felt more intense than the first, and the feel of George’s tongue pushing inside you made you moan out loudly, the feeling taking over you before you relaxed against him, legs falling onto his shoulders.

“You look so pretty when you come,” he grinned, moving back to hover over you. He pressed himself against you, rocking his hips against yours, arm muscles tensing as he held himself up over you.

You whined a little at the feel of him moving against your sensitive clit, making him smile.

“You ready for me, princess?”

You wrapped one hand around the back of his neck, the other reaching for his hand to intertwine your fingers together, “Always, Georgie.”

At your go-ahead, he pressed a kiss to your lips and eased himself into you, making you both moan out. “You feel so good wrapped around me, love,” he praised as he pulled out of you before pushing back in again, “Taking me so well.”

He moved against you, skin brushing against skin, his spare hand moving to touch any place he could, running his fingers down the curves of your body, before biting his lip as he pulled his hand from yours to grab your wrist, taking your other one from around his neck and holding them above your head, making you whimper as his arms flexed.

“Do you like what my hands can do to you, love? How I made you come from nothing but my fingers?” He groaned against you, feeling himself edging towards his own high.

“Yes... yes!” You breathed out, your eyes closing as you felt your high arriving fast, “George you feel so good.”

George groaned again, feeling you clenching around his cock in the same way you did around his fingers. He leant forward to kiss you, still holding your arms above your head and suddenly pleasure coursed through your body, and you sighed against his lips, him twitching and coming inside of you soon after with a deep growl.

He fell against your shoulder, pulling himself out of you before laying beside you, letting go of your wrists as you instinctively curled towards him.

George’s eyes wandered over to you, a smile small playing at his lips, taking in the way your hair was falling across his pillow, your eyes shut as you breathed heavily, eyelashes fanning across your cheeks, your hand resting on one of his biceps.

His gaze travelled across your neck and down to your collarbones, then across your breasts, a smug smile gracing his face. You opened your own eyes, catching his shit-eating grin and raised an eyebrow at him wearily, “What’s that look for?”

“I may or may not have left some... marks,” he replied cheekily, biting his lip, pupils blown wide as he took in the sight of you marked by him, pressed up next to him.

Your jaw dropped a little and you shook your head with a laugh, “Oh bloody hell, Georgie!” You stood up quickly and headed to the mirror across the room to check, fighting the urge to both laugh and smack him when you saw the red and purple marks littering your skin.

George sat back on the bed, eyes raking over your body, enjoying the sight of your bare bum and back, and found himself biting his lip and imagining all the things he wanted to do to you that night. His eyes lingered on the curve of your bum and he fought the urge to grab you again and pull you down onto him.

“I like them on you, they look hot,” George said with a grin, and you playfully glared at him in the mirror.

“You would think that.” Turning back around to him, you just missed the way his gaze flickered to the marks on your breasts and up to your neck, George feeling extremely proud of himself and his work.

“Yeah, it just shows people you’re mine I guess,” he shrugged unapologetically and gave you a smug grin, looking you up and down as you walked back over to him.

“Oh I’m yours, am I?” You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest and unintentionally accentuating your breasts to him, making him let out a groan as he reached for you.

“Of course you are.”

He pulled you back down onto him like he’d imagined before, your bare chest against his own, his large hands holding your waist as your nails gently scraped down his arms.

“Fancy a round two?” He asked, one of his hands already beginning to head back towards your clit.

Your eyes closed as you sighed contently as you felt his fingers press against you, enjoying the feel of him, “I could be convinced.”

As you were straddling him, you felt him harden more than he was against you, and you opened your eyes to meet his own, darkened with lust, his fingers still moving against you as his other hand gripped your hip.

“Oh princess, how about I make you come for a fourth time tonight? And then again. And then again. And again after that. Would that convince you?”

You bit your lip, pushing yourself against his hand and grinned at him, “I reckon it would. Or maybe I’ll just ride you instead.”

He picked up the pace of his fingers against you, and you let out a moan from above him as one of your own hands covered his on your hip, making him smile cheekily at you,

“Ride me then, darling, and then I’ll make sure you can’t walk in the morning.”

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley smut #george weasley imagine #george weasley imagines #4.6k follower drabble event #hp #harry potter #all queue have to do is follow the spiders

[allthingskakashi]

thigh riding with kakashi maybe👀

OKAY SO idk if this was just a general ask but i was inspired bc Kakashi's thighs get me 🥵🥵 so i wrote a whole fic which I'm not sure you asked for but hope would enjoy nonetheless 😌

And i managed to come up w a satisfactory title too 😌

• Enough Already •

[ Kakashi x Reader]

Words : 2k

Tags : Smut, 18+

You were beginning to get impatient.

You’d been watching Kakashi hunched over his desk, going through piles and piles of paperwork for the past three hours now. Sure, he was the Hokage and you did understand that he had a lot of work to do, but for the past month now it felt like you barely even got to see your own boyfriend. And even when you did, he’d just be nose deep in work and come to bed late every night, only to pass out the moment his back touched the mattress.

And yes, you did understand all of that, but it’d been so long since you’d made love, that even the sight of his bare biceps contracting as he worked right now was getting you hot and heavy.

You sighed, uncrossing your legs on the sofa, and closing shut the book in your hand. You'd been trying to read, but the book you were reading was an erotica and the vivid descriptions playing all sorts of images in your mind only added to your frustration.

Tossing the book onto the table next to you, you got up, making your way to where Kakashi was sitting.

You trod over lightly, coming to a halt at the back of his wooden chair. You stood behind Kakashi, slowly wrapping your arms around his neck, before crouching to plant a feathery kiss on the side of his face and working your way down, your kisses getting slobbery as you went.

You’d almost reached the crook of his neck when his curt voice stopped you. “Y/n. I’m working.” He said, oblivious to your advances and continuing to scribble away.

You stopped, unwrapping your arms and stepping away from him. “Yeah, I can see that.” you replied, not putting any efforts to mask the hurt in your voice, before adding “When are you not” in a low mutter.

Kakashi kept his gaze focused on the papers in front of him, his sharp eyes scanning quickly across the sheets as he worked.

You let out a deliberately loud sigh, hoping to elicit some sort of a reaction from Kakashi. An apology, an acknowledgement, or anything, but much to your disappointment, you found none.

With your mouth formed into a frown, you turned away from him, making your way to the other side of the room as the sound of your footsteps rung a little too loud against the floor.

You were a patient woman, but this was starting to get on your nerves now. All you wanted was for Kakashi to just give you a few hours of his time in a day, that’s all. Working like a machine in the way that he was wasn’t good for him either, and you couldn’t possibly be the only one who missed the times you spent. The passionate nights, the lazy mornings, the afternoons spent in bed like it was your last day on Earth. Surely, he missed them too?

You had to do something.

Your feet stopped near the main switchboard in the living room. Reaching your hand to the board, you quickly flicked off the switch connecting to the air conditioner, before slowly making your way back to the sofa and plopping down on it.

You sat waiting with your arms crossed, jiggling your legs and watching Kakashi carefully out of the corner of your eye, studying him and waiting for any kind of a movement or response.

The minutes drove by and beads of sweat were beginning to form on your forehead now. It was the middle of summer and the air was warm and crisp outside. During day, the streets were so hot you could fry an egg on them. But Kakashi remained glued to the chair, continuing with his work with not so much as a flinch or a sound.

Alright, this was REALLY starting to get on your nerves now.

You stood up swiftly from the sofa, fanning yourself with your hand, before vigorously shaking the neckline of your shirt. “Gee, it’s really hot don’t you think?” you cried out, making sure to enunciate every word as you trudged towards his desk again. But his head was bowed, his focus unfazed.

“Did you hear what I said?” you tried again, walking a little closer and standing by the side of his chair. “I said it’s really hot.”

“Turn the AC on, then” Kakashi replied in a flat tone, without sparing you a glance.

Honestly, he was walking on thin fucking ice now.

You ignored his comment. Clearly, these subtle advances were not working. You had to be more direct.

You stood beside his chair watching him for a moment, admiring the way his long fingers gripped the pen. Just below your line of vision, his Anbu tattoo sat exposed, curved over the bulge of his bicep.

Jeez.

Inching closer to him, you gripped the hem of your t shirt, before slowly pulling it off over your head and throwing it on his face. “Oops, sorry”, you sang, your tone not apologetic in the least.

The thin cloth fell on his head, covering part of his hair and his face. “What do you think you’re doing?” Kakashi said with a certain crisp, before pulling the cloth off his face and balling it into a clump on the desk.

Ridden of your t shirt now, you stood in your black bra. It wasn’t the best one in your collection, but it did give your breasts a good lift.

Batting your eyelashes like you had no idea what he was talking about, you squeezed yourself into the cramped space between his knees and the desk. “Nothing at all.” You said, your tone as innocent as ever as you proceeded to reach under your dress, slowly pulling your panties down to your ankles before kicking them to the side.

Kakashi’s eyes were finally on you, fixated and unreadable.

You held his gaze, not taking your eyes off him as you widened your stance and took a few steps forward, before plopping down on his lap, your legs straddling his thighs.

You watched his pupils narrow, and he tried speaking again. “Y/n, I told you, I have wor—”, but his words were cut off by the touch of your index finger to his lips.

Hooking your finger at the edge of his mask, you pulled it down, revealing his beautiful soft mouth underneath.

All you wanted was to have it run all over your body, but you knew you’d have to work a little more to make that happen. “I don’t care” you said, in a cool, low voice.

Your hands brushed up the sides of his arms, feeling every bulge and curve of his toned muscles before sinking into the softness of his hair at the back of his head.

Pulling lightly on his silver strands, you brought his head forward towards your chest, arching your back to push your breasts into his face, which were now heaving, thanks both to the heat and the pooling wetness down below. You felt the tip of Kakashi’s nose rub against your cleavage, even the smallest contact sending shivers up your spine.

Tightening your grasp around him, you pushed his face deeper as you slowly began to grind your hips against his thighs, your stomach stiffening into knots with the wave of arousal coursing through you. The friction of his pants felt heavenly against your sensitive folds and you continued rubbing yourself over him, pressing yourself on his legs as you moved back and forth.

You could feel Kakashi’s breath hitch against your cleavage as the wetness from your core began to drip to his legs, moistening his pants. He tilted his head back, eyes squeezed shut as a low guttural noise escaped his throat.

Your lips curled into a slow smirk at the sight of him and you leaned forward, holding his face in your hands as you whispered, “Lord Sixth, would you like me to stop?”

But you knew the moment those words rolled off your tongue that you’d edged him on too far. With his head still tilted against the chair, you watched Kakashi open his eyes, his dark eyes burning with the hunger of an animal left in the wild.

In a flash, his hands were on your hips, long fingers gripping your soft skin hard enough to elicit a moan. They travelled to your back next, grabbing your ass as you felt every single finger dig into your skin, squeezing hard.

You melted into his touch instantly, your mind spiralling into a frenzy as he clutched the curves of your waist again, guiding you back and forth on his legs with increasing pace.

Ahead of you, his growing bulge fought beneath the thin material of his pants, forming a distinct mound right below his abdomen.

You bit your lip at the sight, resisting the urge to rid his cock of its clothed prison already, mouth drooling at the thought of your tongue slobbering all over his thick girth. Your body squirmed and you felt pleasure building up at the base of your stomach, as you reached for the waistband of Kakashi’s pants, unable to keep holding yourself off any longer.

With desperate fingers you found the strands of his joggers, going ahead to untie them when suddenly, Kakashi’s palm clasped around your wrist, fingers tight against your bones as he stopped you from going further.

You looked up to find his piercing gaze drilling through you, a smirk curling the corner of his mouth.

“Kakashi…” you purred, your heart thrumming in your ears, “Please…”

His unwavering gaze burned into you, brows raising as though asking you to repeat yourself, when you felt his right hand snaking up your stomach, pushing through the underband of your bra to clasp around your breast. He gave it a hard squeeze, before starting to stroke over it with nimble fingers, his lips parting as he spoke. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

The sound of Kakashi’s raspy voice sent tremors through your body. You squirmed, imploring him with your eyes.

He continued stroking with one hand as the other flew to his mouth, and you watched him lick the tip of his finger, before bringing it down to your other breast, smearing his saliva over your nipple.

“You wanted my time”, he stated, gaze fixed on you while two of his fingers twisted your wet nipple hard, before rubbing around it in circles with his thumb. “I’m giving you my time.”

“Infact…” he said as one of his hands travelled below, fingers finding your folds and grazing along it lightly. “I intend to give you all night.”

A desperate gasp left your lips, your swollen clit beginning to ache under his touch.

“Kakashi…please.” You pleaded again in broken rasps of your voice, struggling to keep your mind from going numb.

Kakashi ignored you again, his fingers continuing their ravage down below as his mouth latched on to one of your nipples, sucking slowly at first, and then as if his life depended on it. He clenched and unclenched his thighs, every contraction of his muscle teasing your clit, making you writhe with the overload of pleasure through your veins.

You moaned with every suck of your nipple, and every flick of his finger, becoming a squirming mess in his hands as you gave yourself in to him completely, losing control of your body.

A grating moan began to form at the back of your throat as you felt yourself getting close, his fingers stretching you up, rubbing, and stroking every part of you.

Kakashi hunched forward, finally pulling away from your swollen nipple, his warm breath tickling your ear as he spoke.

“You’re not tired already, are you?” he asked in an innocent whisper, his fingers moving steadily down below.

Your voice came out in a tiny squeak as you answered, your entire body buzzing. “N-no.”

“Good” Kakashi replied, his voice gravelly against your ear as you finally felt him slip one finger inside you, eliciting an immediate burst of almost inhumane sounds from your chest. “because you won’t be walking out of here any time soon.” He whispered against your shuddering frame, before slipping another finger inside and adding in the same husky tone,

“Or walking at all.”

#kakashi #kakashi hatake #hatake kakashi #hokage kakashi #kakashi fanfiction #kakashi x reader #kakashi x reader fanfiction #kakashi smut #kakashi x reader smut #kakashi x y/n #kakashi x you #Naruto fanfiction #naruto headcanons #kakashi headcanons #naruto smut #thigh riding #thigh riding kakashi #naruto #rokudaime #kakashi scenarios #kakashi imagines #kakashi x y/n smut

[fireflykaizoku]

Hello Lari!! How are you?? Omg I just gotta say that your summer resort event looks so cool, and I literally NEED to request, so could I please have beach with the prompt 1, with Koby x fem reader, and could it be nsfw in canon universe?

Thank you so much <33

hiiii love! how are you? sorry i took long omg writing nsfw for koby was so hard bc i see him as a cinnamon roll omg but it was a fun challenge tho! i hope you like it! ❤

You and Koby finally had a break after weeks working too hard. Being a Marine is usually exhausting, and between waking up before the sun is even up and practicing during the afternoon, you and your boyfriend barely had time together. At least not without Helmeppo sitting in between you two.

But now, it was your day off and the weather was perfect for a little picnic. The sun was already setting, and you and the pink haired boy headed to the beach, setting the red and white checkered tablecloth on the sand under a tree, and placed your favorite snacks and beverages.

The date went smoothly, feeding each other little sandwiches, giggling and enjoying being alone together after so long. The boy, even after being in this relationship for quite some time, still got shy and blushed whenever you caressed his face, complimented him or just made romantic gestures; you loved it, though.

It started with soft kisses, giggling and saying how beautiful he was, how much you loved your boyfriend. It was cute to see him blushing. However, you heated up the kisses, moving your lips to his neck, nibbling and sucking on his weak spots. You both knew each other quite well by now, even though you were both a bit shy. But there was something about being alone on a beautiful beach, the fear of getting caught and having to hold back for so long, that was making this afternoon exciting.

His strong hand on your neck, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss was making you shiver; One of your hands moved to his chest, unbuttoning his shirt and moving to his pants. You palmed his cock through the jeans, caressing it, only to feel it getting hard in your hand. You smirked knowing you were doing just the right thing.

— Isn’t it…. Risky? — he asked, looking around. Not that he didn’t want it, but what if someone saw him? What if someone saw you?

— Don’t worry, baby. — you reassured him before kissing his chest. — No one will see us. They’re too busy.

Koby nodded, trying to relax. You removed your shorts and slid your panties to the side, you didn’t want to take the risk of getting caught completely naked, so your shirt would hide your body a little. Koby unzipped his pants, finally freeing his cock from the tight clothes. He was already hard, leaking precum at this point.

You straddled over his lap, positioning his cock on your entrance and biting your lip as you lowered yourself on him. Koby let out a soft sigh, his eyes never leaving your figure, and feeling how good and warm you felt around his cock. It still felt like something so new to him, and even if you became intimate so many times, he still wouldn’t get used to this sensation.

You peppered kisses on his lips, jaw and neck. When he was all the way in, you didn’t move for a minute, adjusting to his size again.

When the slightly burning sensation was gone, you slowly moved up and down, moaning softly, feeling how good his size felt inside of you, how he fit perfectly as if you both were made for each other. Your boyfriend couldn’t hold back, moaning low in your ear. One of your hands was placed on his shoulder while the other found your clit, rubbing messy circles. One of Koby’s hands was on your hips, to help you move, and the other played with your breasts, pinching and rubbing them between his fingers. You arched your back, giving him better access to your chest.

You threw your head back, jumping up and down on his manhood while your boobs bounced with each movement.

— Baby, you feel so good. — you praised as your voice was almost breaking. The pleasure was getting too good, making it hard to say any sentence at this point.

— Y-you feel good too. — he moaned, closing his eyes and feeling his own release approaching. The way you clenched around him was incredible.

You could feel your own release at this point, feeling his cock filling you fully and hitting just the right spot. Your hand was moving faster, desperate for your orgasm. Koby moved his hips, helping you to increase the pace. Your moans were getting louder, and with just another thrust, your mind went blank and your mouth was hung open. The feeling of pure pleasure took you over and your body spasmed.

You slowed your pace, and the way your pussy pulsated around his shaft, moving up and down was too much. Koby couldn’t hold back any longer. Within a few seconds and with a low grunt, the pink haired man released his warm seeds inside of you, making you whine.

Both of you were breathing heavily, sweaty and holding each other. Your body was too sensitive, and the gentle touches of his hand caressing your back was making you shiver. No words were needed, not during that moment.

You looked at him with a soft smile on his lips, making the man smile back.

— Do you… Do you promise we’ll be together no matter what? — he broke the silence while brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

— I promised to love you forever. — you whispered, smiling before placing a kiss on his pink dusted cheeks. — So it’s forever. And even after that, if it’s possible.

Koby smiled and nodded, pulling you closer. You rested your forehead on his, waiting for your breath to go back to normal so you could finally get dressed and leave the beach.

— I love you too. — he whispered back. — Forever.

#koby x reader #koby one piece #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece scenario #n.sfw #Summer Resort Event

[sunkissedpages]

instead of you [part three]

pairing: [best friend’s brother] tom holland x college!reader

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, mentions of sex

word count: 2.1k

series masterlist

“No sex?”

“Y/n!” Sam hissed through his teeth. “You think you could lower your fucking voice a little?” His tone was even, but his eyes betrayed the thinly veiled panic you were all too familiar with. 

Pushing your best friend’s buttons was something you usually enjoyed, but in that moment you were feeling a similar sense of panic. 

“Sorry, how was I supposed to react to you telling me I can’t sleep with anyone this summer?” you snapped in a whisper. 

“How were you expecting to pull that off without making it look like you were cheating on me?” he countered. 

“I- I don’t know. I guess I wasn’t thinking about it...”

Sam had been typing the list of “rules” for the summer in the notes app of his phone for the better half of an hour as you brainstormed together, and you had been on board with everything that it consisted of so far:

No gross pet names (babe, baby, and darling are acceptable)

No kissing with tongue

No telling embarrassing stories!! (yes that includes that one time i got a condom stuck in my nose and we had to go to the emergency room- that’s literally only funny to you)

4. Share a bed together for the whole trip

ACT LIKE WE’RE IN LOVE (@ y/n)

Spend at least an hour with family per day

Take “coupley” pictures together when my parents as- bc they WILL ask

Wear the matching shirts my mother made 

Buy y/n all the alcohol she wants

It was a pretty decent list, all things considered, until he got to rule number ten. 

“I mean it’s not like it’s going to be easy for me either,” Sam reasoned. 

You rolled your eyes. “Am I supposed to thank you for your service or something? Applaud you for keeping it in your pants for two whole months?”

“You’re literally complaining about the exact same thing.”

“Yeah, but I’m only doing it to save your ass,” you huffed.

“Trust me, I’m well aware,” he said, sighing. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this.”

You gave him a soft smile. “You don’t have to keep apologizing. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be.”

“You don’t want to be. You’ve mentioned that several times.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t love you.”

Sam smiled at that. “Thanks, I love you too.”

“Alright that’s enough sincerity between us for a lifetime,” you said and chuckled uneasily. “We can go back to being assholes to each other now.”

“Good, that took a lot out of me.”

You glared at him, but refrained from making a comment. “What’s next on the list then, lover boy?”

“Already breaking the first rule-”

“Fine, what’s next on the list, fuckface?” you asked with a smirk. 

Sam clenched his jaw and scrolled on his phone. “Okay, number eleven, no flirting with my brothers.”

“Do you really need to write that one down?” You watched as he typed it out without acknowledging you. “Like isn’t that kind of implied? You know I don’t see Harry like that.”

“He’s not the one I’m worried about,” he muttered. 

You raised your eyebrows expectantly, awaiting an explanation, but he offered none. Instead, he moved on to the next rule and left you sitting alone in your confusion. 

The majority of the rest of the flight was spent bickering with Sam over the list, undoubtedly annoying the hell out of everyone seated around you. The other passengers finally got some reprieve from the sound of your hushed voices when Sam put his earbuds in to listen to music. You knew he was only doing it to tune you out because whenever he was really listening to something he always shared one of his earbuds with you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. If he was going to be like that then... god, this was going to be a long summer.

You shifted in your seat so that you could comfortably rest your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes. Even though he was frustrated with you, you knew he wouldn’t push you away. It was just like that with you guys. He’d get over it by the time you landed. 

When you opened your eyes again, Sam had fallen asleep too. He was slumped against you with his head resting on top of yours like something out of a movie. It struck you as ironic. To passers by you already looked like a couple. Game on. 

-

Sam led the way through the busy airport terminal to baggage claim, apparently trusting you were right on his heels. But it was almost like he was trying to lose you with the way he was weaving through the crowd like a wanted fugitive. You could barely keep up. Some fake boyfriend he was. 

You’d never seen your best friend like this before. Usually he was so calm and collected, the one who was always talking you off the ledge, but you could tell he was the one climbing stairs right now. 

“Fuck, there’s no way this’ll work.” 

It had been another one of those late nights in the library when Sam had thrown the stack of index cards onto the table in surrender and buried his face in his hands. You were both teetering on the edge of a caffeine crash. The words on the pages had started to blur together in a way that was almost illegible and neither of you could keep the important dates of your relationship straight. 

“Yes it will,” you insisted as you gathered up the cards and handed them back to him. “We’re just burnt out. That’s why we keep getting things wrong.” He knit his eyebrows together in a way that told you he didn’t believe you, but didn’t say anything in return. You sighed and took a sip of your coffee, giving him a measured look over the lenses of your glasses. “It’s four am., Sam. We just need some sleep and then we’ll come back fresh tomorrow, you’ll see.”

He pushed his hair back from his forehead and nodded reluctantly. “Thanks for doing this with me... it’s, uh, really important to me.”

“I know.” 

But you didn’t know why. Sam didn’t even study this hard for midterms, but here he was night after night with you mapping out every single detail of your fake relationship. A small part of you wondered if there was something more, something that he was keeping from you, but you pushed the thought down. You told each other everything...

As you watched him wait for your suitcases at the carousel, arms crossed, left foot tapping the tile impatiently, it dawned on you just how nervous he was. You wished there was something you could say to ease his mind, but the right words were escaping you. To be fair, you weren’t having any luck shaking your jitters either. You’d never been in a relationship long enough to meet your significant other’s parents. Somehow the fact that you weren’t even dating made it even more daunting. You desperately needed the Hollands to like you- for both you and Sam’s sakes. 

“This one’s yours, right?” Sam asked and pointed to one of the bags he’d rolled over.

“Yeah, thanks for grabbing it.”

“Don’t mention it, babe.” You fought the urge to make a face- “you’re making a face.”

“Sorry, knee-jerk reaction. Still adjusting to hearing that.”

“Well adjust quicker because my brother will be here to pick us up any minute.”

“Wait, what?”

“How else did you think we were going to get home?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I didn’t think about it.”

You followed Sam outside through the automatic doors to the car loop to wait for Harry. It was warm out, but there was a light breeze that lifted some of the heat from the pavement. The sun had set mere minutes ago, and dusk was lazily settling over the horizon. You were too close to the city to see any stars, but the moon glowed dimly behind the clouds, like a performer waiting in the wings. 

Sam scrolled through Spotify as you both sat there, carefully balanced on your suitcases, and offered you one of his AirPods. You took it wordlessly and put it in your ear. The gesture was comforting, almost intimate, a reminder that nothing had changed between you. At least not yet. 

He was playing something you hadn’t heard before, a classical piece. It sounded old and European which didn’t narrow it down at all. A glance at the title scrolling across his screen suggested that it was French, but he put his phone in his pocket and stood up before you could fully read it. 

Before you could ask what was happening a black Audi pulled up to the curb, parked, and a boy who was... not Harry stepped out of it. It was then that you realized Sam had never specified which brother was picking you up. 

You knew Sam had an older brother, but he didn’t talk about him much. You had just assumed they weren’t close, but as you watched them hug and laugh together you weren’t sure what to make of it. 

“Y/n, this is Tom,” Sam said as he introduced you to his brother. “Tom, this is my girlfriend, y/n.”

“Nice to meet you.” You held out your hand and he shook it tentatively.

“Likewise,” he replied, sounding unconvinced. “Can I help you guys with your bags?”

“Um, sure. That’d be great.”

You handed over your suitcase and backpack to him and joined Sam back over on the sidewalk while Tom lifted the luggage into the trunk with surprising ease.

Tom was about Sam’s height, slender like Sam too, but far more athletically built. Even through his t-shirt you could see the distinct outline of muscles you hadn’t even known existed in the human anatomy- it was ridiculous. His smile was the same as Sam’s too, but what really gave him away as a Holland were the curls peeking out from under his baseball cap. They were impossible to miss. 

“Do you want to sit in the front, love?” Sam asked, pulling you back into the moment.

“No thanks, you catch up with your brother. I’ll be fine in the back.”

“Are you sure?”

You nodded. Tom didn’t seem too thrilled to meet you in the first place so sitting in the back seemed like the safer way to play it. Sam just shrugged and climbed into the passenger seat while you slid into the middle seat in the back. 

“Did you tell mum we’re running a few minutes late?” Sam asked Tom once he’d merged onto the road. 

“Yeah, she said she expects it from Heathrow anyway since they’re always so busy.”

“It was fucking packed, mate.”

“I know. Traffic was awful getting here. Everyone’s going on holiday.” Tom turned to glance at you, then back at his brother. “Are you guys hungry? Dinner should be ready when we get there.”

“When we get where?” you piped up in confusion, wondering who would’ve cooked at the boys’ flat.

“Mum’s and dad’s.”

You grabbed Sam by the shoulder. “Wait, we’re going straight to your parents’ house? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“What do you mean? Why does it matter?”

You stared at him, eyes wide. “I can’t meet your parents like this!”

“Like what?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I’m wearing sweatpants!”

“And you look fine!” he argued. “Tom, tell her she looks fine.”

“Uh, you look fine.”

Why were men so fucking dense? You rolled your eyes and unbuckled your seatbelt. Your suitcase was just out of reach in the trunk so you hoisted yourself up over the seatback and grabbed one of the straps on the bag to pull it closer to you.  

With your limited access it was hard to find what you were looking for, but you managed to randomly pull out a nice pair of jeans and a floral print blouse you’d thrifted last semester to change into. 

Before either of the boys up front could register what was happening you pulled your t-shirt off over your head and started shimmying out of your sweats. 

“What the fuck are you doing, y/n?” Sam hissed as the car swerved. 

To be fair, you were just straight up taking your pants off in his brother’s car, but in your defense he’d really left you no choice. 

“What does it look like I’m doing?” You snapped and looked back up at him defiantly, catching Tom’s eye in the rearview mirror as you did. 

“Keep your eyes on the fucking road, Tom.” Sam grumbled, shooting daggers back at you.

You blew him a kiss in return followed by the middle finger as you buttoned your jeans with your other hand. 

Tom laughed and turned to his brother. “I like her.”

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

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iou tags: @rebekkah4766 @justab-eautifulmess @eunoiaa @duskholland @solllaris @thenoddingbunny-blog @zmazingzoe @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian @missevrythingg @mindfulwishing133 @sweetlysilent @nutellaclouds @wannabewolf @chloeemilymae @frustratingpaperclip @badhollandfluff @jaskiers-sweetkiss @awkwardnesshabitat @iivelaughioaf @danicarosaline @crossedties

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#instead of you #iou #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fic #tom holland self insert #tom holland best friends brother #tom holland series

[lue-arlert]

Lue, my love!! 💗

Congratulations on 100 followers!!! You deserve every single one. You're so sweet and so supportive and I love you dearly 🥺💗.

For you event, could I request a nsfw date with Armin or Levi please?

Eri my darling my sweet hello tysm I love you 🥺🥺

I of course chose your first date to be with Armin bc there just isn’t enough of this sweet man out there. 😤 I hope you have a good time 🥺🍑✨

(And I did get your other ask abt the sugar baby thing so I will not make you a sugar baby per your request uwu)

WC: 1.6k

18+ minors and ageless blogs do not interact

It was the perfect season for peaches. Juicy, sweet peaches, the softest of crunches when your teeth would pierce the fuzzy fruit as the summer weather graced the air.

And you were so excited, because your first date with Armin Arlert was to visit a peach orchard and harvest the delicacy.

You wore your prettiest pink summer dress, complete with a wide, white satin ribbon belt around your waist, a pair of golden flats, and an iridescent pearl necklace sitting elegantly around your neck, drooping over your collarbones.

As you finished brushing your fingers through your hair, a knock rumbled through your apartment and you scurried happily to the front door, pulling it open with a smile to greet your date.

“Hi, Armin,” you chirped, grabbing your bag from the rack beside your door.

He blushed furiously as he looked over you, rubbing his fingers into his palm. “Hi,” he smiled, holding his arm out to you as you shut the door.

You laced your fingers around the bend of his arm and let him guide you to his car, opening the door for you and carefully shutting it once you’d sat yourself comfortably.

The drive to the orchard was pleasant, small talk being held as Armin wanted to get to know you better. Though he met you through a dating app where you’ve spent some time conversing, he preferred in-person, and found you absolutely enchanting.

He soon pulled into the parking lot of the orchard, quickly making his way around the car so he could open the door for you.

After you climbed out and smoothed your dress out, he went to his trunk and removed a large wicker basket that had a thick blue buffalo plaid cloth lining the bottom. “For the peaches.” He grinned and took your hand in his, walking by your side to the wooden booth outside the orchard gates to pay the entry fee.

He stayed close to you the whole walk through, gently touching your back between trees, grazing his fingers over your bare arms, brushing your hair over your shoulder when it drifted forward from the warm breeze. He was smitten. You were just too beautiful for him to take his eyes off of you.

You admired a plump peach in your hand, rolling it through your palm with your fingers, bringing it to your nose to smell the saccharine goodness of the fruit.

Passing Armin a sly grin, you bit into the peach, wiping away some of the juice that trickled down your chin, giggling furiously.

He laughed with you, stepping close to you and placing his hand on your elbow, lifting his other hand to cup your face, then leaned his face down and placed a kiss on your sugary lips.

You exhaled through your nose and your eyes fluttered closed, bringing your free hand to his chest and curling your fingers around the fabric of his short sleeved button up shirt.

It took him a second to pull away from you, wanting to keep his mouth locked with yours forever, but once he willed himself to do so, he stared into your sparkling eyes, his own holding a heavy glint through his ocean blues.

Not much later were you back at his car, storing away your peaches back in the trunk in the basket.

Armin held you close to him by your arms and waist, kissing you once more, this time deeper and more passionately.

Your lips were becoming swollen from his, the little nibbles he placed along them growing a desire within you.

He felt this same desire, then glanced around after pulling away from you.

“Come here, pretty.” He whispered, pulling his back passenger door open and guiding you inside the back seat, crawling in behind you.

You giggled as he caged you against the seat, one hand supporting himself on the door, the other on the headrest of the seat as he brought his face back to yours, licking and kissing and biting your lips once again.

Your fingers laced around the back of his neck, your tongue finding home in his mouth, and when you felt him grab the underside of your knee, you relaxed your leg and let him handle you, bringing your ankle around his side and waist, leaning his hips in close to yours.

His lips left yours, sprinkling little kisses over your chin and jaw until they rested on your neck.

A breathy moan escaped your lips and you slid your fingers over his undercut into his hair, so soft and fluffy against your skin.

“I want you, pretty girl.” He whispered against the crook of your neck where your necklace laid.

“Take me, pretty boy.” You giggled, hooking your leg around his lower back.

With a quick motion, he scooped you up from under your ass and shifted so he was sitting in the center of the back seat, your gorgeous legs straddling his thighs, his hands resting on yours as he kissed you deeply once more.

You wiggled your hips, encouraging his arousal that you could feel beneath your clothed cunt. You didn’t care that you’d only just met him, he was an angel, such a charming and kind man, and you wanted to let him ravage you.

His palms trailed up your thighs, pushing under the skirt of your dress until his thumbs found your clit, rubbing quick circles right off the bat making you whine into his lips.

Armin chuckled against your teeth with a grin and slid one of his hands between your legs, his fingers pressing into your soaked panties over your folds.

“Wet already, my peach?” He whispered, his free hand wrapping around your ass cheek and giving it a firm squeeze.

You moaned and nodded, wiggling your hips again. “Wet for you,” you replied, tucking your lip between your teeth.

“I’m so glad.” He dove in for another kiss, lapping his tongue over your lips and the roof of your mouth, his fingers pulling your underwear to the side so he could slip a finger into you, drawing out such a sweet moan from you.

You rocked your hips as he pumped his finger inside of you, gasping when he found your tender spot.

He cooed at you, recognizing that he was making you feel so good, then pressed his fingertip into the spot over and over again, stroking his thumb over your clit as he did so.

His ego flared the higher your moans got, the more your fingernails dug into his shoulders from the pleasure he was giving you.

As your thighs squeezed his, biting your lips with a whine while dipping your head back, your release so close, so close, so close, his finger suddenly left your velvet cavern and you gasped, looking at him with obvious disappointment on your face.

“Armin!” You whimpered, rocking your hips. “Why’d you stop?”

He smoothed your hair down your back while giving you a kiss, then reached between the two of you to unbuckle his belt and unbutton his pants, pulling his hard girth into his palm. “I want you to cum on my cock, pretty,” he mumbled.

Oh. You were fine with that then.

Nodding furiously, you helped him position his tip at your clenching hole, and with his free hand tight on the small of your waist, he pulled you down to sink onto his length, a squeak making its way out of your throat. “Armin! So big!”

“Shh, don’t think about it too much, just feel it.” He groaned and brought his hands to your face, cupping gently as he placed a butterfly kiss over your nose. “Just feel me inside of you, okay? You can fuck yourself on my cock when you’re ready.”

You nodded with a whimper and gave yourself a moment to relax your hips and thighs, sliding further down him and bottoming him out inside of you, another moan ringing from you.

Now ready and hungry for him, you started to roll your hips, listening to him hiss as he buried his face in your shoulder, holding your hips tightly.

“Fuck,” he breathed your name, “you’re so fucking tight. So tight, so pretty for me.” He gasped when you quickened your pace, starting to bounce on his lap.

Your fingers found their way into his hair again, fisting it and pulling his face up to yours, connecting your lips to his.

The two of you exchanged moans and groans back and forth between each other’s mouths as you fucked yourself on his glorious dick, his head grazing your walls so beautifully as he began to thrust up and meet your movements.

“Armin, Armin I’m gonna—” You threw your head back with a mewl and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his face into your chest as your pussy fluttered around his cock, your orgasm hitting you so hard your back arched and body convulsed.

Armin soon followed, letting out a loud yelp into your tits as he came inside of you, filling you with his hot ropes of seed until it spilled over his length and pooled in his lap.

You panted together, his lips slowly pecking up your chest and along the column of your throat until he met your lips again, sloppily kissing you until you both came down from your highs.

With a smile, you pulled away from his lips and brushed some of his hair away from his eyebrows, cradling his cheek in your palm. “Are you ready to go bake some peach pies, pretty boy?”

He chuckled and pecked your lips one last time, rubbing your hips and back. “Yes, I am.”

Lue Arlert’s 100 Followers First Date Event - CLOSED

#lue-arlert’s 100 followers event #first date event #armin arlert #armin arlert aot #armin arlert snk #armin arlert smut #ask lue #lue writes #lue’s friends

[fandom-puff]

Monthlies

Pairing: Young remus lupin x reader

Requested by: anon

Prompts: //

AN: just a bit of remus fluff 💕💕 your feedback is greatly appreciated- gif creds to owner 😊 also, this is a bit of a modern AU, bc Netflix didnt exist in the 70s :)

Warnings: literally none (periods are something we shouldn’t be ashamed of and should not need a warning fight me) also some swearing bc why not

“YN... wake up, love,”

You grumbled slightly, already feeling like absolute shit, not wanting to get out of bed just yet. Your eyes fluttered open slightly and you groaned, feeling your stomach cramp slightly. You looked up at remus and frowned, about to ask what was wrong, before feeling a familiar sticky wetness between your thighs. You looked under the covers and groaned. “Shit, remus, I’m sorry love,” you murmured, looking away, embarrassed. “I’ll clean it up,”

“Hey, hey,” he said gently, tipping your chin up to face him. “Don’t be embarrassed darling,” you still cast your eyes down. “It’s natural, I couldn’t care less if you bled on the bed, it’s easily fixed,” you nodded slowly as he kissed your forehead. “Go to the bathroom, love. I’ll sort the sheets out,”

You smiled softly at him, before tottering to the bathroom, glad his parents were out. You pushed the door open and smiled softly- remus had prepared you a steaming hot bath, and on the counter he had left you one of his big soft jumpers, pyjama pants, underwear and sanitary products.

Letting out a pleasured groan, you slid into the hot water, leaning back eagerly as the heat worked wonders on your aching muscles.

You must’ve drifted off to sleep, because when you opened your eyes, the water was a little cooler, and Remus was kneeling beside the tub. “Hey, sleepy,” he said gently. “Everything’s sorted, and I got you a hot water bottle,” he kissed your cheek. “Come back to bed when you’re ready,”

Ten minutes later, you were clean and dry, all bundled up in remus’s jumper as you slid back into bed with him. Instantly, he wrapped his arms around you, spooning you, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your neck. He leaned over you and handed you the remote, and you soon picked a movie to put on in the background as you snuggled up together. He heard you let out a shuddery breath of pain and frowned, before snaking his warm hands under your his jumper, kneading your belly gently. You groaned happily, turning around to kiss him gently. “I love you,” you hummed softly.

“I love you too darling. You always help me with my time of the month... it’s only fair I do the same,” he grinned, settling down for a lazy snuggly morning.

Tag List: @obsessedwithrandomthings @haphazardhufflepuff @diksy1112 @zodiyack @axriel @hiddensapphic @samnblack @tinylumpiaa @in-slytherin-we-trust @thatoneasrastan @emmaloo21 @kyn-lyn54-blog @eleven-times-lively @summer-writes @sleepylunarwolf @rai-strangebr @moonlover-tobefree

#young remus imagine #young remus x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x reader #remus lipin fluff #request #harry potter #harry potter imagine #hp

[some-kindofgnome]

Kinktober #23: with autumn closing in: Mirio Togata

You’re leaving for college in the morning. Tonight, you want to give Mirio something to remember you by.

i. ii. 

Characters: Mirio Togata x f!Reader

Warnings: smut (18+ please!), Quirkless AU, first-time sex, car sex, pre-college angst, lots and lots and lOTS of fumbling and fluff

Notes: Both characters in this story are eighteen years of age. I don’t write underage characters in nsfw situations!!! That being said, this is not proofread. It’s so soft and so messy and all over the place but then again, so is losing your virginity. Today’s (yesterday’s) prompt was “First Time.” 

EDIT: nobody asked but the title is inspired by Bob Seger bc I’m a walking m e m e 

Kinktober Masterlist

Mirio’s beat-up little Subaru kicks up a cloud of dust as you race around the winding turns of a bendy country road.

You’ve been in this passenger seat a thousand times. Tonight, it feels different.

It’s just before eight, but the late summer sun is already sinking rapidly toward the trees. The days are growing shorter already- it feels like you’ve been chasing the evening sunlight since the Civic Holiday. The first time you noticed the sun setting before nine P.M., you burst into tears.

You’re not ready for the changes that Labour Day will bring.

You’ve had Mirio beside you for as long as you can remember. Since before you ever knew who you were, you had him. Even when the line between friend and more was blurred, you’d transitioned so smoothly into romance. It was like you’d always known that you were it for each other.

Perfection is never permanent.

You’re both quiet, navigating the road that you’d normally cruise with all the happiness in the world. You’ve felt light as a feather, driving up to the point with Mirio before. Even though the windows are down tonight, with all the sweet summer grass wafting heady smells into the car, you’re not blaring the radio or laughing at your latest inside joke.

You’re scared.

This entire year feels like it’s been full of lasts. They started out big-you celebrated your eighteenth birthday together back in the winter. This summer was the last time you both worked at the ice cream parlour down by the water. And slowly the lasts whittled their way down to tonight. One last shred of summer and you and the life you’d once known.

Your very last date.

Mirio has been hasty to remind you that it’s not your last date forever, just for a little while. Just until Thanksgiving, he promises, or maybe even earlier, if he can come out to see you before the semester gets too busy. But neither of you know what to expect from college. And perhaps that’s what makes tonight all the scarier.

Among other things.

The point is completely deserted tonight, the late summer chill a likely culprit. It’s not much more than a little clearing in some trees off the bend of this dark road, but it kind of looks over the illuminated part of town and it’s generally where people with cars go to make out.

It’s the only privacy you could think of.

Mirio pulls carefully off the road, rolling along the gravel path until your neat little town opens up beneath you. He shifts the car into park and shuts off the rattling engine. He unfastens his seatbelt and, finally, he looks at you.

It’s too dark to appreciate the shade of his eyes. But they shine dark in the dim of a waxing moon, steady and strong despite the nerves that tremble beneath them.

“You sure about this?” One big, warm hand covers yours and if you weren’t sure before, it’s enough to comfort you.

“Yes,” you promise, leaning in close. You brush the tip of your nose against his, letting your eyes flutter shut. “I’m so sure.”

You’re unbuckling your own seatbelt when he leans across the center console and cups your chin in one rough palm.

“God,” he whispers, licking his lips. “I love you.”

He kisses you before you can let the words bring you to tears.

Tonight you’ve promised to take one last first together. It’s something both of you have wanted for a long time- but neither of you quite felt ready for. Not until now, with the deep fog of autumn and your inevitable separation closing in.

You plant a palm on his thigh, stroking the rough denim with your thumb as you lean closer to him. Your kissing deepens naturally. He knows exactly how to kiss you to get your head spinning. And when he breaks from your mouth with a little pant of warm breath, your head’s in the clouds.

“Wanna…” He trails off, flushing in the dark. “Wanna get in the back?”

His little car is almost comically small for a guy of Mirio’s size, but the dented hatchback is all the space he’s ever needed. Tonight, the back seats are folded down, and there’s a stack of pillows and blankets awaiting you.

You kiss his forehead and nod, pulse spiking.

“Okay.”

You climb back first, navigating carefully over the center console and bracing a hand on Mirio’s shoulder. The roof is lower than you expected, but there’s enough room for you to prop yourself up on your elbows and watch him climb clumsily back to meet you.

His foot slips just as he’s transferring his weight forward and he has to catch himself on the passenger’s seat, erupting nervous laughter from both of you.

“Man,” he sighs, crawling over the microfiber seat back and settling down next to you. “I knew I was gonna be a big ole klutz tonight.”

“You’re always a big ole klutz,” you hum. You bring one hand to the back of his neck, threading your fingers into his blonde hair. This time, when you kiss him, it’s slow and lingering. And when you draw back, you keep your forehead pushed against his.

“’S why I love you so much.”

“Here,” he croons, stroking your cheek again with a tender thumb. “Lemme look at you again.” He does, pausing for a moment as his eyes cast over your face. “I wanna remember every piece of this when you’re gone.”

At some point, you’re ready to stop stalling. He kisses you with fresh intent, crawling gently over you in the tight space that surrounds you. He’s careful to keep his weight off of you, letting one hand trail idly to the front of your sweatshirt, toying with its hem.

“Here,” you sigh, sitting up a little. “Let me just…”

Mirio pulls back, ducking and still nearly hitting his head on the gently-padded ceiling of the car. You wiggle out of your sweatshirt as best you can, wedged between him and the pillows beneath you. Your t-shirt sticks to your hoodie as you worm out of it, but you get impatient and pull the whole mess over your head.

Beats having to sit up all over again in a few seconds.

Mirio’s seen you like this before. In bikinis at the beach, in your sports bras when you work out together, for brief flashes if you change your shirt in front of him before heading out the door.

But tonight, all your exposed skin is for him. Tonight it’s with intent. Tonight, he gets to touch you.

He mumbles your name, timid as a mouse as he buries his face in the swell of your bare shoulder. He peppers loving kisses along the flesh, and you can feel, when the weight of his hips bears down on you, that he’s already getting excited.

It sends a thrill racing down your spine. Not the first time you’ve felt a twinge at the apex of his thighs. But it is the first time you’ll be chasing that high to its completion.

“Can… can I…” He trails off, and his fingertips brush against the band at the bottom of your bra.

“Can I touch you here?”

“Yeah,” you gasp, but you’re still not ready for the way it feels when his fingers slip beneath the cup and brush over your tender skin. He distracts you, kissing attentively at your collarbone, while he arches your back and unsnaps your bra. Lowering your bare back to the blanket is a foreign feeling but you welcome it, lifting your arms and letting him pull the whole affair away from your body.

“God,” he gasps, sitting up a little. “Look at you. You’re so gorgeous, princess.” He slides both palms up your ribcage, following a trail of goosebumps to the swell of your breasts. He thumbs both of your nipples, palming the flesh eagerly and getting a feel for the way that you fill his hands.

“Are you sure about this?” Conflict crosses his expression and your eyes pop up to his in shock.

“What?”

“With me,” he expands. “You’re so perfect, I-I just… wanted to make sure.”

“Baby,” you gasp. You sit up and wrap your arms around his torso, pulling him harshly down against your body so you can hug him close. He lets out little more than a yelp of surprise before he relents, chest deflating against yours.

“I’ve loved you…” you start to say, tearing up rapidly, “since before I even knew what love was, Mirio. You’re the only person I’ve ever wanted this with.”

“Aw, sweetheart…” He mutters into your skin, kissing you one more time as he sits up to find your eyes. “Don’t cry, princess, please don’t start crying.” He swipes away the trail of a tear that leaks from the corner of your eye.

“I’m not, I’m not,” you promise, clinging tightly to him. “I just don’t want this to end.”

The two of you undress the rest of the way as swiftly as you can. He peels you tenderly out of your leggings, and your exposed flesh feels vulnerable, even under his adoring gaze. But when he shucks off his undershorts, the dark flush that’s working its way down his chest proves that you’re not the only one who’s feeling a little shy.

He’s fully hard and ready for you, cock standing straight out from between his kneeling thighs. You’re definitely feeling a twinge, but it’s with a twist of self-consciousness in your gut. You’re going to need a little more preparation.

“Here,” he whispers, breaking the silence. He gets slowly onto his belly between your thighs, and you try not to lick your lips as you watch the way his cock presses up between the blanket and his firm body.

Mirio settles one hand on your thigh and the other on the mound of your pussy. He’s not touching you anywhere sensitive yet, but he lifts his head one more time to make sure you’re still with him.

“Can…” he starts to say, but you interrupt him.

“Please.”

With slow circles of his thumb, he begins to explore you. He strokes every inch of your folds, up and down the length of your slit. He finds the little nub at its apex and bites his lip, giving it an experimental little rub.

“Is this it?” He prompts.

“Y-yeah,” you stutter. Already you’re starting to clench your fists in the blanket underneath you. “Ah, a little higher. That’s it.”

You gasp as he follows your instructions, swiping his thumb a little higher and making you bristle. He dips a finger down towards your slit, swallowing hard when the skin comes away shiny.

“You’re wet, princess,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Are you ready for me?”

“Almost,” you promise. You know the anticipation must be killing him. But you’ve always been able to ask for what you need with him. He promised you a million times that this wouldn’t be any different. And he’s holding that promise close, it’s obvious.

“I need…” You take a deep breath and center yourself. “Inside. A little, first. Just so it doesn’t… hurt so much.”

“Okay.” He nods. “Okay. Like this?”

He flips his hand over and probes the tip of his middle finger against your folds, then wiggles it carefully and slides it inside you. Your back arches a little at the feeling- you curl your toes, and you both gasp.

“Whoa,” he murmurs into your skin. “You’re so tight, Princess. I can’t wait to feel all of you. God, you’re even wetter in here.”

He starts to slide his finger slowly in and out of you, pumping with a smooth and steady rhythm. You’re letting yourself get used to the sensation, but it’s not long before your accustomed and squirming against his knuckles.

“Another one,” you prompt.

“Are you sure?” He’s mesmerized by your body’s reaction, but he doesn’t want to hurt you.

You nod. He listens, pulling away. When he slides his finger back into you it’s accompanied by his ring finger, and that’s a stretch you’re not quite so used to. You let a little whimper loose and spread your legs further, trying your best to consciously relax your muscles.

“That’s it,” he soothes, smoothing his free hand over your belly. “Tell me when you’re ready, baby. Tell me when to stop.”

He eases his fingers in and out of you a few times. You gently roll your hips forward, encouraging him into that same rhythm as before. Finally, after a few dozen heartbeats that pass like eons, you put a hand on his wrist. You’re not sure if there’s a threshold you’re supposed to wait for or not, but his fingers feel comfortable and you’re getting wetter by the second.

You don’t want to wait any longer.

“Okay,” you brush. “I’m ready.”

“Alright.” He draws back, getting up onto his knees again. “Oh- hang on, I’ve got…”

He trails off, reaching past you for his jacket. He grabs it and dives into the buttoned inside pocket, pulling out a wrapped condom. You’d bought them together a few nights ago in preparation for this. Taking advantage of the big drugstore in the next town over, with workers that are strangers to you. And a self-checkout kiosk.

“Here.” You pluck the condom from his fingers, shooting him a quiet little smile. “Let me.”

You unwrap it carefully, handling the slick, flimsy ring as little as possible. He scoots forward, and his cock bobs obscenely in your face. It sends a throb of ready want through the pit of your stomach. You’ve always kind of assumed that he isn’t small, but here’s your proof.

You pinch the reservoir tip in the center of the condom and push it against the tip of his penis. He twitches a little but holds himself still, and you do your best to roll the rest of the condom all the way down to the base. When you get there, you give the shaft a gentle squeeze, smooth and hard and warm and Mirio.

He sits back on his heels once the condom’s secure. Lets out a deep, decompressing sigh. You do the same. He looks at you with the moon in his eyes, and you fall more profoundly in love with him than ever before.

“Ready?” He’s quiet.

“Yeah.”

Carefully, Mirio lines himself up. He leans forward over you, trapping one of your hands beneath his and twining your fingers together. You think about hitching your legs over his hips, but keep them spread for now, instead. Just the mere position you’ve taken feels incredibly vulnerable.

Then he slips a hand between the two of you and brings the tip of his cock to your body.

Oh.

“Take a deep breath,” he whispers to you. “I love you.” You inhale, and as the air leaves your chest he edges slowly inside.

“Oh,” he groans. “Oh wow.”

The stretch is not as bad as you anticipated. He’s big, but he prepared you diligently and carefully, and he’s taking things slowly. He eases his hips forward a little more with every breath until he’s bottomed out, as far inside as he can get.

He peppers kisses all over your face, brushing your nose with an eyelash on the way back up.

“How do you feel?” He mumbles. “’m I hurting you, princess?”

“No,” you sigh. “No, you can move.”

He draws himself slowly out of your body, then anchors himself and sinks eagerly back in. He keeps the gentle back-and-forth motion up for a couple of beats, and when he begins to speed up it’s slowly, checking in with you again and again to make sure you’re still enjoying yourself.

Finally, his rhythm breaks. He finds a steady pace, letting the muted clap clap clap of your bodies syncopate with the heady huh huh huh that escapes his chest with every thrust. You let your head fall back against the pillows, holding him tight and doing your best to lose yourself in the pleasure.

“Oh, man, oh god, p-princess, I’m not gonna last very long,” he warns carefully. Already his expression is starting to draw with ecstasy. And you’re ready to let him go.

“It’s okay,” you promise quietly, staring in wonder up at him. “Just let it happen, Mirio. Come for me, baby, I wanna see it.”

“Okay,” he babbles, “okay, okay, aw… s-shit, I-I can’t… shit!”

He slips a hand under your thigh and tugs it upward as his thrusts lose rhythm and his body breaks into shivers. You can’t feel the warm burst inside you, but you know it’s there as he twitches atop you, stalling and trembling hard over your skin as he loses himself.

When it’s over, he sits back on his heels, looking down at his softening cock and the filled condom. He looks…

Disappointed.

“Mirio?” You sit up. Your heartbeat spikes. You’re trying not to panic. “Mirio? What’s wrong? You didn’t like it?”

“What? No.” He cups your face between his still-shaking hands. “No, no, no, I just… I didn’t make you…”

“Oh.” Your cheeks warm. You’re not going to pretend like you didn’t see it coming. “Well… it’s okay, Mirio, it’s not that easy for me to come just from that. I didn’t think you were going to…”

“No,” he insists, sounding more determined than you’ve heard him in a long time. “No. I’m gonna make you. I gotta try. Please let me try. Please.”

You swallow hard. You give a terse little nod, and he lays you back against the pillows. When he reaches for you, you stop him.

“Just… get rid of the condom first.”

He goes maroon.

“Right.”

As soon as the condom’s been disposed of, he comes back to you. He gets down on his belly again, just like before. With his diligent fingers and careful perception, you coach him through giving you his first orgasm. It’s not earth-shattering. It’s not the best orgasm you’ve ever had. But it’s a peak, and he’s so proud when he kisses you back to the surface again and pulls the blankets up around your bare bodies.

When you’re finished, the car’s windows are garishly fogged. It’s warm and stuffy and cramped, but you couldn’t care less.

You know how this goes. You’ve had enough aunts and uncles teasing you about the turkey dump already. Not you, though. Not Mirio. Tonight’s first only solidifies that to you.

You’re more than distance can take away from you.  

#mirio togata x reader #my hero academia #mirio x reader #lemillion #mha lemillion #kinktober #jbbkinktober2020 #mirio togata #mirio #mha fanfiction #boku no hero academia #bnha #bnha fanfiction

[miracleonice87]

Someday Soon

a Mathew Barzal one shot

a/n: I was about halfway through my Nate Mack one shot when this idea came over me and bc it’s Mat Barzal, I was powerless to resist.

summary: a conversation about the future leads Mat and his longtime girlfriend to take a step in the direction they both know they’ve always been headed.

warnings: some smuttttt (happy Sunday lol), mention of having children together, swearing

_____

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mathew walk in through the main door of the house that the two of us had shared for more than a year now. The boys had ribbed him endlessly two summers ago when he gave up his apartment in Brooklyn, which had served as a bachelor pad since his sophomore season, to move into a McMansion in Garden City with me. How domesticated, the guys chirped. Mat couldn’t have cared any less. What they saw as him being whipped, he saw as his dreams coming to fruition.

I watched him blow hot air into his fist and rub his hands together, snowflakes sparkling on top of his head, swiftly melting into his thick, black hair. Over my glass of chardonnay, I smiled at him.

“Little cold?” I teased from where I sat cuddled in a tank top, comfy lounge pants and a heavy throw blanket. He hadn’t realized that I was on the sofa in the dimly lit family room before him, and hearing my voice made him spin my way and jump slightly. He quickly recovered, tipping his head back in a classic Mat Barzal laugh.

“You scared me, princess! Whatcha doin’, waitin’ for me?” Mat asked lightly with a smile as he hung his coat in the closet, kicking his shoes off before sauntering my way. Standing at the arm of the couch behind me, he tenderly gathered my hair in his hands and pressed a firm, sweet kiss to the crown of my head. “Of course I’m waiting for you,” I said softly, eyes closing in bliss as his fingers found my shoulders and rubbed them. “That’s sweet,” he mused, walking to the opposite side of the couch to look at me face to face and playfully squeeze my covered feet. My heart fluttered — he looked impossibly handsome in his navy gameday suit.

“Stay right there. I wanna go put sweats on and I’ll be right back, eh?” he suggested. I nodded with a soft smile.

Two minutes later, Mat returned, now donning a long-sleeved white Nets t-shirt and a pair of grey Islanders sweatpants, having swiped the open bottle of chardonnay, along with another wine glass, from the kitchen. He set both down on the end table beside my perch on the couch, then cupped my face in his hands and gave me a long kiss. I melted into his touch, curling my fingers around one of his hands.

“Hi,” Mat said quietly. “Hi. Your hands are still cold,” I whispered, giggling, touching my nose to his. He giggled, too, then insisted, “Well, warm me up then!” He patted the outside of my blanket-covered thigh and motioned for me to move so that he could take the seat instead. As soon as he hit the plush cushion, he pulled me down to sit between his thighs. I instantly settled back against his chest, inhaling his fresh scent and exhaling a contented sigh. Mat hummed a deep laugh against my bare shoulder, leaving a kiss on the skin, as he pulled the blanket around our waists.

“Happy?” he asked, almost rhetorically. “Mmm,” was all I offered in response, snuggling my head deeper into the crook of his neck, eliciting another breathy laugh through Mat’s nose. “Good,” he said. “How’s your night been?” Mat asked, fingers combing through the hair on the side of my head.

Without moving my head, so as not to disrupt Mat’s soothing ministrations, I reached for my wine glass from the table and, referencing my graduate studies, answered, “Finished that paper for my communication theory class, so now I only have two projects left before finals.”

“Alright, babe! That’s my girl,” Mat said proudly, kissing my cheek. I smiled at him as I sipped my chardonnay.

“And you obviously had a productive night too, Mr. Second Star of the Game,” I said excitedly, poking him lightly in his perfect stomach, making him chuckle again. He nodded happily. “Yeah, great effort tonight. Guys played really hard, which doesn’t always happen going into the holiday break. Only one more game and then it’s time to celebrate,” he told me, nuzzling his nose against my hairline. I relaxed fully into his grasp as he took a sip from his glass.

“I can’t wait to spend the holidays with your family,” I declared as I stared up at him, making his eyes dance. “Yeah?” he prodded. “Yeah,” I insisted. “Having you at my parents’ house last year was so nice, and I loved it, but I’m excited to make memories with your family this year.”

Mat tightened his grip around my hips. “You have no idea how happy that makes me,” he mumbled into my neck. I smiled as he placed a row of kisses there, then, with a squeal, I tried and failed to tuck my head to my shoulder and restrict his access to the sensitive spot when he began to playfully assault my skin with his mouth.

He finally pulled away, only to ask abruptly, “So do you think that’s how we’ll do this moving forward then? Like one Christmas we’ll go to BC to see my family and the next we’ll go to Chicago to see yours?”

My heart leapt. Mat obviously had future plans for the two of us, considering he’d already asked me to move in and share everything in his life with him, but he hadn’t broached specifics in this way with me aloud before.

“Moving forward?” I pushed, hoping I was right in my prediction of what he would say next.

“Yeah, you know, like when we get married, have kids? I just thought that might be a good way to do it,” Mat answered. A blush crept across my grinning cheeks.

“Kids?” I asked specifically, rolling my head closer to his as he looked sideways down at me. “Yes, kids,” Mat said firmly, splaying his fingers across my stomach — maybe subconsciously, but maybe not. “We’ve always talked about kids,” he insisted.

“We’ve talked about kids, but not where we’ll spend Christmas and New Year’s with them,” I told Mat, reaching up to smooth a hand over his cheek.

“Well, that’s part of it, eh? I’m just looking forward to sharing the rest of my holidays with you, and someday our babies, too,” Mat said, squeezing my thigh beneath the blanket, kissing the skin behind my ear.

“I can’t wait to have your babies someday,” I whispered, kissing at his jawline. I felt him go rigid, then move with a jolt. Mat swiftly took my glass from me and placed them both on the end table next to us, then shifted himself to sit up straight on the couch and adjusted my legs so that I was straddling him.

“You can’t just say things like that and not expect me to make love to you,” Mat mumbled, grabbing the backs of my thighs and bringing me closer to his waist. I intentionally ground my ass into his hips, causing a groan to fall from his perfect pink lips.

“Maybe I did expect you to,” I suggested quietly, holding one hand to his neck and allowing the other to travel down his torso. Finally it came to rest on his groin, and I palmed him gently through his sweatpants as he swore under his breath, head falling into my shoulder. His hands caressed my upper arms as he began to breathe heavily, finally finding the strength to lift his head and look at me, his eyes needy.

I ran the tip of my forefinger gently across his forehead and cheek before pressing my lips to his, tongues crashing together. He pulled my tank top away from my skin and coaxed my arms out of it, pulling away from my kiss only to remove the shirt from around my neck and toss it on the floor beneath us. His breath caught in his throat as he took in the sight of my round breasts in a lacy black unlined bra.

“My beautiful girl,” Mat breathed, lips moving forward to ghost across the skin of my neck, no longer touching the area in a joking manner. He stretched his hands up from my lower back to unhook my bra and pull the straps from my shoulders, causing it to fall onto his stomach as I rocked against his lap in an attempt to create friction at our centers. He took my face in one hand and kissed me sloppily. Mat’s hands soon traveled down to cup my breasts, thumbs pulling across my nipples, causing them to tighten and harden even more, which made him smile as he looked up at me.

“Pleased with yourself, Barzal?” I chirped. He gave a soft chuckle. “Oh, baby, you have no idea,” he said, voice thick with satisfaction. I allowed my hands to travel from his hardening length beneath me to his abs under his shirt, the feeling of my fingers on his bare skin making him shiver. It was my turn to be smug. “Oh, I think I do,” I whispered against his lips, quickly settling into a passionate kiss, into which we both moaned.

Eventually, the remainder of our clothes had joined my top on the living room floor and our positions had reversed so that Mat was hovering over me, and I knew that tonight wasn’t the time for foreplay.

“I just need to be inside you right now, baby,” Mat explained, pressing fiery kisses to my neck and the side of my face. “Is that okay?”

I reached to grasp his chain and ran my fingers down his pecs as I nodded. “I need it, too,” I whispered. He nodded in return, knowingly. He took his length into his hand and guided the tip to my entrance, sliding it up and down the slit a couple of times, releasing a long breath and causing me to reach my own hands to tweak my nipples.

“So pretty, baby,” Mat praised, appreciating both the sight before him and the feeling beneath him. “So wet for me. You ready, sweetheart?” I nodded once more. He whispered, “Okay,” and pushed his first few inches inside, leaning his head down to kiss my forehead as I adjusted momentarily, wrapping my arms around the back of my neck.

“You alright, sweet girl?” he inquired. The familiar stretch of him had quickly turned into pleasure, as always, and now my desire only burned stronger. “Yes, Maty, you feel so good in me,” I responded, hearing a low groan escape him. He took that as his cue to sink himself further into my heat, resting his forearms on either side of my head. Once he bottomed out and heard my whine, he began deep, slow strokes as he watched me carefully below him, pushing hair back from my face.

“Mmm, feel so good for me, baby. Nice and tight,” Mat said, mere centimeters from my lips. “Just wanna show you how much I wanna be with you, now and forever.”

I moaned the moment I heard his sweet words, begging him to speed up his pace, which he did only slightly.

“Wanna remember this, princess. Wanna remember how you told me you wanna have my babies. You wanna tell me again? Hmm?” Mat pressed. I could tell that his thoughts of having children together were doing it for him tonight. It was a turn-on that I shared, so I immediately indulged.

“Mmm, Maty. I want you to fill me up. Please, give me a baby,” I whined. “Oh, fuck,” he groaned, his speed increasing now as his fingers found my clit and began to tease it, forming tight circles. My hands found the arm of the couch above my head and held on tight.

“You like that, Maty? Tell me what you wanna do to me, baby,” I requested. His moans turned into French phrases, which was not uncommon to hear from him when we were having sex, especially when he was close.

“Veux te le donner,” (let me give it to you) Mat grunted as he slammed into me, pushing himself so deep inside that I could feel the ache. I let out a string of high-pitched moans, my eyes finding his as my walls began to tighten around him. Though my birth control would most likely inhibit our encounter from actually producing a baby, the thought, the risk, and Mat’s obvious desire fueled me into my orgasm. He followed closely behind, ungodly moans falling from his lips. Just before he spilled into me, he exclaimed, “J'ai hâte de faire de toi la mère de mes bébés,” (I can’t wait to make you the mother of my babies) and with that, he dropped his head to my neck as we rode out our highs, waves of pleasure washing over us. It took several moments for my muscles to cease their contractions around him and for his throbbing within me to slow.

Mat kissed me languidly, hand resting on the swell of my breast, once we had finally caught our breath. “Jesus, babe,” I laughed. “I know,” he offered with a long exhale.

“I meant what I said,” Mat whispered to me, taking my face in his grasp. “Maybe not right now, but someday soon, you’re gonna have my babies. And I can’t wait for that day.” I gave him a lazy smile and nodded in agreement.

#nhl #nhl fanfic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #hockeyblr #hockey #hockey imagine #hockey one shot #hockey fic #hockey fanfiction #hockey fanfic #nhl hockey #mathew barzal #mat barzal #mathew barzal fic #mathew barzal fanfic #mathew barzal fanfiction #mathew barzal imagine #mathew barzal one shot #mathew barzal smut #mathew barzal fluff #mat barzal smut #mat barzal fluff #mat barzal fic #mat barzal fanfic #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal one shot #barzal

[satendou]

⟼  poolside service

⍣ 365 days of sun series | previous | next

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢  pairing: iwaizumi hajime/reader/oikawa tooru

⇢ au: 365!au, poly!au, college!au, pro!oikawa

⇢ summary:  you’ve just moved into your new house and, wouldn’t you know it, the air conditioner is busted. iwa is quick to remind you that you now own a pool and thank god for that.

⇥  masterlist

⇥  requests are open! | rules

⇢  warnings: established relationship, polyamory, smut, fingering, praise, double vaginal penetration, daddy kink

⇢  word count: 3.4k

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢  a/n: uh,,,lit you should use lube if you’re gonna have sex in a pool but bc this is fanfiction, who cares? also the position might be a little unrealistic but wouldn’t it be sexy? alsox2 disregard my overzealous use of the word “pretty”. i have a problem.

“Remind me why we decided to move in the middle of the freakin’ summer?” you asked as you hauled yet another box up the stairs. It was only the fourth or fifth one-- you weren’t too sure-- but you had at least another fifteen or twenty out in the truck Iwaizumi had rented for the day. 

Iwa grumbled a noncommittal response and Oikawa sighed, panting as he followed behind you with a box of his own.

“It seemed like such a good idea at the time,” he whined, and you snorted, accidentally inhaling beads of sweat into your sinuses. You felt absolutely disgusting, your shirt sticking to your back and your hair-- already up in an effort to keep your neck cool-- still clung to your skin. The air conditioner wasn’t on yet either, so the inside of your new house was not only sweltering but stifling.

“Well, it wasn’t,” Iwaizumi snapped, dropping the box he held by the front door. There were several already stacked up haphazardly around the foyer and entrance hallway, and you nudged his further in to keep the path clear and to set yours down on top of it. “Is there any reason the damn A/C is still off?” 

You shifted your weight, leaning away from him. He was in a foul mood, from both the heat and plain exhaustion after spending the last two weeks packing up after your classes were through for the day. 

“We just keep forgetting to turn it on,” you murmured, wiping away the sweat from your forehead with your shirt. It was too tempting to take it off, but then you would have to worry about sunburn and that just...wasn’t appealing. “I’ll go check it now.”

“Goddammit,” he snapped, then softened. “No, I’ll go. I’m sorry for snapping.”

You gave him a small smile as he passed by, but it turned into a grimace when he touched your cheek. “It’s too hot, don’t touch me, ugh.”

It took another twenty minutes before you got all the boxes in, and even then you had to sit around waiting for the air conditioner to even make a dent in the heat of the house, all while sorting the boxes into their appropriate rooms when all you wanted to do was shower in ice water. It was the worst experience you had ever had, and that was including the very memorable day when you had fallen into an algae covered lake while on vacation, and had had to walk around wet and slimy for hours before you could get back to the hotel.

“Ah, hell,” you whined, rubbing at your stinging eyes. Sweat had dripped into them without warning and you groaned in frustration. The air was barely any cooler even though the sun was setting by that point, but the most important boxes containing clothes, the food, and the bedding were unpacked and put away and you were going to do nothing else before you showered.

Oikawa was just stepping out of the bathroom when you walked up, having finished putting things away in his designated room, and smiled. “All yours, princess.”

“Thank you,” you said sarcastically and he laughed, walking off down the hall toweling his hair.

Not even looking at the handle for hot water, you turned it on full cold and stepped under, shivering even as you sighed in relief. The first ten minutes were spent just standing there relishing in the goosebumps breaking out over your skin until you felt a little more human, and you spent another ten working your hair and body into a lather.

You could have cried as you stepped out, wrapping yourself in a fluffy towel and feeling that the air was still far too warm for your liking. Grumbling, you got dressed in a huff before wandering through your new home towards the sound of the TV in the living room.

“Why in god’s name is still so hot in here?” you whined as you fell into the empty spot between Iwaizumi and Oikawa. You realized almost immediately what an awful idea that was when the temperature rose another ten degrees and groaned.

Oikawa was frowning, sweat starting to bead on his forehead again already. “Dunno. We’ll probably have to call someone tomorrow to look at it if it isn’t working then.”

Uncomfortable silence fell as you squirmed, trying to figure out how you were going to sleep through the night if it remained this hot, when there was a smack from your other side.

You and Oikawa both jumped and looked to Iwaizumi, who’s palm was flat against his forehead.

“We’re so stupid,” he said, and you were bewildered when a grin spread across his face. “What was the biggest reason we picked this stupid house in the first place?”

You shook your head, unable to think of anything. Oikawa was mirroring you, eyes narrowed as he wracked his brain.

Iwaizumi groaned, glaring at you. “The pool, you idiots. Let’s go find our suits and--”

“Fuck that,” you said, standing up. You couldn’t believe you had forgotten that the three of you literally owned an in-ground pool now, complete with a built-in hot tub to boot. And there was a six-foot privacy fence to keep the neighbors from peeking. 

“Wha--?” Iwaizumi started to say, irritated at your dismissal of his idea.

Until your shirt hit him in the face.

Oikawa laughed at that, eyeing your swaying hips and naked back. “You little minx. I like the way you think.”

You grinned over your shoulder, shedding your shorts and leaving them laying in the middle of the floor as you opened the sliding glass door. The lights in the pool were already on, creating a rippling light show beneath the surface of the water, and you disrupted it when you jumped in with a splash.

It was followed a moment later by another one, and you surfaced to find Oikawa fully naked and swimming towards you with a devious smirk. The water was blessedly cool, and your hard nipples did not go unnoticed. Iwa was taking a little more time, carefully dropping his shirt on one of the deck chairs as he watched you and Oikawa splash around and giggle, already feeling you up.

“Come on, Iwa. We won’t bite,” Oikawa said as he dragged you backwards through the water towards the deep end.

Your stomach dropped a little when you felt your feet leave the bottom, but Oikawa kept you up in his strong arms. Still, you squirmed around until you could loop yours around his neck and your legs around his waist.

“Careful, princess,” he warned playfully, feeling your hot core settle against his soft cock ( or at least, it was soft until he felt that, anyway). “It’s a bit early to christen the pool like that when we haven’t even managed the bedroom yet.”

You giggled in his ear at that. “Says who?”

Another set of arms wound around you then, and hot breath hit your neck a split second before teeth did. Iwaizumi was apparently not as reserved as Oikawa was, as he was rock hard against your ass.

“You two are fucking ridiculous,” he snapped, leading a trail from your shoulder up to your ear, nipping the lobe a little sharply.

You squealed in response, arching into Oikawa’s chest. They grinned wickedly at each other, and Iwaizumi pulled you back to lean against his chest.

Your tits were now above the water line, exposing your hard nipples to the warm air and Iwa’s touches. He palmed both breasts in his rough hands, pinching and twisting the hard little buds between his fingers and your legs tightened around Oikawa’s hips in response. Your nails dug into the skin of his biceps, your head tipping back onto Iwa’s shoulder as you sighed.

Both their cocks were fully hard and rubbing between the cheeks of your ass and the lips of your wet cunt, Oikawa’s tip grazing over your clit nonstop. Your toes were starting to curl from the endless pleasure, small noises that might have been pleas escaping your lips. 

“That feels so good, Haji,” you murmured, slipping your fingers into the wet strands of his dark hair. His lips were still pressing against your skin, teeth leaving bright red marks all over the side of your neck and shoulder that you knew you would be covering up tomorrow.

“Hold her up, Haji,” Oikawa said, and you whined when his hands left your tits to brace beneath your knees. The new position had them up near your shoulders, your pussy on full display under the water, and you shivered at the rush of coolness against your hot lips. “God you look so pretty like this, princess.” 

The tip of one long, slender finger skimmed your outer lips, teasing as it skipped over your clit and traced down the other side. “And so wet already. Very naughty.” He added a second finger and made a round again, listening to your breathing hitch and huff when he came close and missed again, and laughed.

“You’re such a tease, Tooru,” you whined, toes curling as he came close yet again and missed yet again. “So mean.”

“Awe, don’t say that, princess,” he tutted as his thumb finally pressed to your clit causing your hips to jump in Iwaizumi’s hold. 

His hands squeezed tighter, spreading you open further to Oikawa’s featherlight touches. The cool water intensified the feeling of his fingers on your clit, and when one finger teased your slick opening, you gasped.

Iwaizumi was nudging at your cheek, still grinding between your ass cheeks, and when you turned your head to him his lips landed on yours. His tongue immediately swept between your lips without permission, delving and tasting and swallowing the noises you were making, his fingers so tight they were sure to leave marks in the morning.

“You’re already so needy and we haven’t even done anything,” Oikawa said, feeling your walls clench as he pressed in to the second knuckle and grinning. “Tell me how good it feels, hm?”

Iwa pulled away, listening to your whiny pants, lips shiny and swollen and eyes glassy. “Feels good, Tooru but I need more, please. Mm, want you to stretch me out on your fingers so I can take both your cocks.”

“Oh, is that what we’re doing tonight?” Iwaizumi asked teasingly. His cock jumped at the thought. He always loved seeing stretched to the point you were crying, begging for more even though you can’t take it, so full that your orgasms were empty as you fluttered around them. “You’ll have to ask nicely if you want that, princess.”

You gasped as Oikawa slipped a second finger inside you, eased by the copious amounts of slick you were producing now as his thumb ground against your clit.

Iwa wanted so badly to join him in teasing you open and to orgasm, stuffing you full of their fingers as they prepped you to take them, but the view over your shoulder as Oikawa’s slender fingers pumped in and out of you was making up for it.

Your breath rattled as they scissored inside you, the words pouring out of your lips in a whiny, high pitched tone. “Please please please, can you both fuck me? Want both of your cocks in my pussy tonight, please?”

A third finger fit and spread and you keened when every pass began to grind against the soft spot inside you. You couldn’t help it, wailing as you clamped down around them, and Oikawa slowed down to work you through it.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty when you cum,” Iwa growled into your ear, but you barely processed what he said in your addled state. His muscles were straining with the effort it took to hold you like that for so long, but it was worth it to hear your breathy moans on the air. “Since you asked so nicely, I suppose we should reward you, huh, Tooru?”

Oikawa nodded as he started up again, feeling your walls flutter and clench from overstimulation, and he carefully avoided your clit for the time being. You were so wet now that a fourth finger slid in with no effort, but you gasped anyway at the stretch. It was a familiar sting that ebbed away so quickly you hardly noticed it, focusing on the feel of them inside you and you moaned Oikawa’s name.

“Feels so good, Tooru,” you said, fingers tightening in Iwa’s hair. The pleasure was surging again, still too intense but you reveled in it. “Always feels so good when you stretch me. Wanna take your cocks, please.”

Oikawa’s cock throbbed at your praise, neglected and achingly hard as he worked you open.

Iwa pressed a kiss to your sweaty cheek and said, “Patience, pretty girl. You’ll get what you want soon, but only if you let Tooru work that pretty hole open.”

You whined again, toes curling as you tried to do what he said, but you wanted it so bad. At last, Oikawa dragged his fingers from you and nestled his cock between your swollen folds, taking your legs from Iwaizumi and placing them over his arms. Iwaizumi repositioned as well, letting his cock slide alongside Oikawa’s while he cupped your ass, kneading and squeezing the soft flesh.

“Ready, princess?” Iwa asked, prodding your drenched hole and you nodded, toes curling when his head slid in. He didn’t wait for you to adjust, stuffing you full in one thrust and you couldn’t help the scream that filled the thick night air. He stopped when he was fully seated, feeling you clench and spasm around him and released a deep, stuttery moan into your ear.

You reached up and gripped the back of his neck, head tilting to the side and lips parting in a soundless ‘o’ as Oikawa eased in as well. Your back arched, but you couldn’t go anywhere pinned between them the way you were, and tears filled your eyes at the intense, pleasurable stretch as both their cocks settled against your cervix.

“Fuckfuckfuck,” you breathed, high pitched and scratchy, nails digging into Iwaizumi’s neck and Oikawa’s shoulder. “So good, so full, I can’t take it.”

Both men were panting as they felt your walls trying to squeeze down around them, fluttering uselessly and when Iwaizumi pulled out, you almost cried.

“Ah, ah, princess. You asked for this, remember?” he asked, and his hips snapped back into yours, hilting again while Oikawa pulled out. “You can’t back out now.”

“Never,” you cried, tears pricking your eyes as they alternated fucking you. You were never empty for a second but when they both snapped into your tight pussy, you squealed. “Want you to cum in me at the same time, fill me up, please.”

They listened to your babbling with smirks, eyes rolling as their veiny cocks rubbed and filled every inch of your cunt, tips taking turns kissing your cervix.

“You sure, princess? I’m not sure you can take that,” Oikawa teased, slowing his hips, and laughed when your head whipped up to look at him, pupils blown wide and pleading.

“I can take it, Tooru. I promise I can take it, please don’t stop,” you begged, almost sobbing when Iwaizumi slowed as well. Both of them now were just rocking their hips, both settled deep in your stretched pussy, and could feel every vein and the crown of their cocks dragging against your walls. “Pleasepleaseplease, daddy.”

You had whined it accidentally, but Iwa reacted with a sharp jerk of his hips to the name and you cried with relief. 

“Say that again, princess,” he groaned, pulling out to the tip. As soon as you gasped the name again, he was fucking up into you with abandon, joined by Oikawa a moment later. 

He was amused by the turn of events, but he was turned on by the bounce of your tits with every hard thrust, your head thrown back and moans and whines flowing nonstop from your parted lips.

“Gonna cum,” you cried, toes curling as someone’s cock tapped your cervix. “Gonna cum all over your cocks. Daddy, please, let me--”

It was like they both knew who you were referring to, because Oikawa said nothing while Iwa groaned low in his throat, teeth nipping your pulse point before commanding you.

“Cum for us, pretty girl. Gonna fill you up full of our cum but we need you tight around us first. Gonna make you feel so good, princess,” he snarled, and his thrusts changed so that he and Oikawa were filling you at the same time. Oikawa watched your eyes go wide, mouth open in a silent scream as you came, fluttering and trying to clamp down on both their cocks but it was useless. He rocked his hips gently, stimulating your g-spot while Iwa’s fingers found your clit and circled roughly. You jerked, your voice breaking as you screamed their names, first Oikawa’s and then Iwa’s.

You were jelly in their arms after that, fingers wrapped weakly around their wrists but you whined when Oikawa pulled out of you. 

“Sorry, princess. Daddy has to cum, then I’ll fill this pretty pussy back up,” he said and leaned down to kiss you softly. But you tasted too sweet and his tongue dipped into your mouth for more, swallowing the sounds you made as Iwaizumi resumed fucking you.

He sounded breathless when he came, a low, raspy groan filling your ears as a warmth filled your cunt, and he paused for a moment. Oikawa pressed in beside him again, and you tensed in their arms, moaning until Iwaizumi pulled out.

“My turn, pretty girl. One more and then we’ll clean you up,” Oikawa promised against your lips. He wasn’t gentle as he chased his pleasure, listening to you babble and plead for more, you can’t take it, feels so good, fuck*. “Shit, you’re still so tight after that.”

He tensed up as the pleasure broke over him in waves, hips rocking as he spent himself inside your womb, cum mixing with Iwa’s and you basked in the full feeling.

Iwa picked you up in a bridal carry and waded to the side of the pool, where Oikawa helped pull you up onto the cement deck. Your legs were sore and stiff from being held up for so long, and he just lifted you up again, walking naked into the house and dripping water everywhere.

It was, to his surprise, cool inside and you shivered as the air cooled the water on your skin. Iwaizumi’s footsteps headed to the thermostat while he carried you to the bathroom.

“Let’s do that again,” you said, nuzzling your nose against Oikawa’s neck. He smelled like chlorine and his body wash, and you couldn’t resist the need to press open mouth kisses all over his skin.

He laughed, setting you down on your feet and reaching for the towel over the shower rack. “Sure, princess. But not tonight. We’re gonna go to bed.”

“Well duh,” you answered as you helped each other towel off. Iwa joined you a moment later, letting you rub him down with the fluffy towel. “I’m exhausted.”

Iwa laughed, snatching the towel from your hands and throwing it on the sink. “Then let’s get you into bed, hm?”

You squealed when he hoisted you up and over his shoulder, smacking his bare back as he carried you down the hall. Oikawa couldn’t seem to resist the urge to pester you, poked your nose and tugging your hair all the way down, listening to you whine and slap at his hands playfully.

Iwaizumi dumped you onto the bed, grunting as you bounced and then bounced some more when your partners fell in beside you. The covers were pulled up and you were tucked between them, head resting on Oikawa’s chest while Iwa’s arm lay across your waist, fingers laced with both of yours.

In an instant the steady rise and fall of Oikawa’s chest beneath you and their combined warmth lulled you towards sleep, but not before you murmured, “I love you both.”

Iwa’s voice was thick and rumbly as he said it back, squeezing your hands. Oikawa pressed his lips to your forehead before he answered, light and airy and full of happiness.

And how could he not be? He had everything he wanted in his arms.

⇥  masterlist 

⇥ taglist: @umihami​, @kunimwuah​, @visaintes​

#oikawa x reader #iwaizumi x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #tooru oikawa x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #hajime iwaizumi x reader #oikawa x reader x iwaizumi #.poolsideservice

[rawmeanderson]

pretty please ― thursday.

ft. Kevin Hayes.

plot: with Kevin, Brady, and Jimmy all gone from New York and the new season about to start, everyone gets together for a long weekend. warnings: swearing, drinking, mentions of anxiety/depression. word count: 4.9k notes: this is a slight AU I suppose, in the sense that the pandemic doesn’t exist here bc escapism, y’know? basically, this takes place in August 2020, where there was no pause and the season ended normally. also, this is kind of forgetting the fact that Kevin, Brady, and Jimmy didn’t live together during the last season they were all together in New York but whatever. Y/N is also plus sized!! title is from Pretty Please by Dua Lipa. there’s also more notes at the end!

Rain was hitting the windshield, the sky gloomy and grey as leaves on the trees outside the car. At least the weather was playing into your mood.

“Last time I checked, this was the only rain we’re supposed to get all weekend thankfully,” Sophie said from the driver’s seat as she adjusted the speed of the wiper blades. When she glances at you, you force a slight smile, nodding in acknowledgement. She looks like she wants to say something else but doesn’t, and you turn your head to look out the window.

The dread and disinterest swimming in your stomach, the car ride that seemed to go on endlessly reminded you of all the times your mother had driven you to your dad’s during the summers. You’d sat in the passenger seat then just like you are now, anxious, irritated, and on the verge of begging her to turn around.

You hadn’t wanted to come on this trip, knowing it was meant to be a last hurrah of sorts. Thursday to Sunday at a lake with friends sounded great in theory, but the changes that would be happening in the weeks that followed were what scared you. The finality of it all.

“I’m glad you decided to come, Y/N,” Sophie told you, and you could feel her glance at you again. She had been your roommate for almost 10 years now, since the start of college, and she knew you were doing your best not to spiral. 

You opened your mouth, then closed it again, opting to nod like you had earlier as your gaze drifted to your lap. Running your tongue along your teeth, you tried to think of something to say that would ease the tension in the vehicle. Un-crossing your legs, you shift in your seat slightly as you hear Sophie exhale a quiet sigh through her nose.

She knows your feelings aren’t personal, that you’re not blaming her for moving on with her life, but your general sadness about all of it weighed on her either way. She was right there, but that didn’t stop the preemptive pangs of loneliness that hit your stomach.

In the last two years, every person you’d spent most of your time with had left New York, until Sophie was the last one. And in two weeks, you’d be the only one left, leaving you feeling as grey and sad as the weather outside.

After chewing on the inside of your cheek for a while, you pick a piece of invisible lint off the fabric of your shorts. You’d meant to buy new ones before the trip since most of your pants cut into your waist anymore, fueling your self-consciousness. “I’ll...I’m sure I’ll feel a little better once we’re there and I’ve been able to take a nap,” you tell her, trying your best to sound optimistic about it. Blaming your bad mood and distantness on being tired, classic.

Sophie glanced at you and nodded, accepting what you’d said despite knowing you as well as she does.

It would’ve been hard to argue about it, considering you’d both been up before 5am to make this 4 hour drive. You’d left the city around 6, the car packed with the bags for the weekend, plus a good number of totes of Sophie’s stuff for Jimmy to take back to Buffalo with him. There was still about an hour left in the drive, and the iced coffee you’d chugged at the start of the drive had done nothing but make your heart race soar as you fidgeted in your seat.

Sophie had always been the early bird, with the two of you poised to be some of the first people to arrive at the lake. Jimmy and one of his buddies had gotten there last night, with everyone else slated to show up in the early afternoon. The only reason you’d agreed to leave so early was because Sophie promised to let you nap as long as you wanted once you got there. You were grateful that would allow you to avoid people for a while.

For what was left of the drive, Sophie didn’t speak, letting you sit there in your tired sadness as music hummed through the speakers.

When you parked at the massive cabin overlooking a lake that stretched as far as you could see, it was still raining. The sky was just as grey, and it gnawed at you, the perfect cinematic backdrop for what felt like the beginning of the end.

Your mood was sour, and as you unfastened your seatbelt to exit the car, you felt goosebumps rise along your skin even though it was warm out despite the rain. The same worry you’d had the whole drive was still swirling through your head, that your mood and your emotions would put a damper on the trip. You hoped that a nap would help calm those fears.

Jimmy was already on his way out to greet you and Sophie, his smile fixed on your roommate as you open the back door to grab your bag. He approaches with a grin as you’re already making your way toward the cabin. 

“Take any room you want,” he tells you, like he already knows that you’re going for a nap. You salute him in acknowledgement, deciding to greet him better later as he continues on to greet his girlfriend.

Your shirt is covered in raindrops by the time you get inside, glancing around curiously. There’s a couple of people hanging out on the sofas that you don’t recognize, but they wave to you either way then go back to their conversation.

After wandering down the hall, you nudge open a door and decide that the room is good enough. There’s a window looking out over the lake, and even as grouchy and sad as you’re feeling, you know it’ll be a gorgeous view when it’s not so gloomy outside. You close the door behind you and unceremoniously drop your bag on the floor while kicking off your shoes. Collapsing into the middle of the bed, you sigh, running on auto pilot as you pull the blankets over yourself. 

Shifting around slightly, you’re aware of how the shorts are cutting into your waist and your bra is pinching somewhere, but you’re too settled to do anything about it as you stare up at the wood paneled ceiling. The sound of the rain hitting the roof is soothing, and you let out a breath that seemed to have been held since the moment you got in the car.

Your eyes trace the woodgrain, remembering when Sophie told you about Jimmy’s roommates shortly after she got with him, that they were funny, cool guys that she knew you’d get along with. You’d partied with them first, but it turned into movie nights, casual dinners, enjoying the group of newfound friends that you saw several times a week. With how often you ended up hanging out late or bar hopping in their area, the guest room had practically been designated as yours.

Then Kevin was traded to Winnipeg. Then Jimmy was traded to Buffalo. Then Brady was traded to Carolina. Your found family in the city had practically dissolved within a year, and now Sophie was two weeks away from moving to Buffalo.

You knew there was little choice in the matter for anyone really, that it wasn’t their fault, that it was just how worked, but it still hurt, remembering you’d be the last one of the group in New York. You had other friends that you saw every so often, but it didn’t stop how lonely it all made you feel. Being sad about it made you feel selfish, so you buried it behind frequent naps and iced coffee.

Your internal monologue continued until tears stung in your eyes, and you blinked them away, turning on your side as you willed yourself to get some rest.

By the time you woke up, it was mid-afternoon, and you stayed curled up on your side for a moment. Sun was streaming in through the window as you took a deep breath. You could hear people outside, along with splashing from the lake, and when you rolled over, you saw somebody zip past in a jet ski. After a taking a few minutes to scroll through your phone, you finally get up, stretching as you smooth your hair down.

You came out of your room and found Jimmy and Sophie in the kitchen. Yawning as you approached, Sophie smiled.

“Good nap?” she asked knowingly, and you nodded once you were close enough to hug her.

“Yeah, definitely,” you said, arms wrapped around her. She hugged back tightly, rubbing a hand between your shoulder blades before you pulled away. 

You felt better. The nap and the better weather helped kick the sadness out of you. You hated this part, feeling better and realizing how cynical you’d been earlier.

“Good to see you, Slim Jim,” you told Jimmy, hugging him quickly as well. You were happy to see him, deciding to focus on enjoying and savoring the long weekend with everyone instead of being miserable with sadness. Leaning back against the edge of the counter, feeling content, you smile. “Who all showed up when I was out?” 

“Uh, some friends of mine, Derek and Amy, showed up, Kev too, and he brought a friend,” he said, glancing down at the water like he couldn’t even remember who was there. “Brady’s about an hour or so out.”

The three of you chat for a while, catching up since it had been awhile since you’d seen Jimmy. He introduces you to the friends of his that were splitting the cabin for the weekend when they come through, and a moment later, you promise to catch up more later, deciding to head outside for a bit.

Outside, the sun beats down on you but you lift your chin to greet the warmth as you walk. It felt particularly good after the heavy rain of the drive in, the humidity from it clinging to the air still.

Making your way to the dock, someone you hadn’t met is standing there, football in hand. Kevin’s on the back of a jet ski with someone else driving, and it didn’t surprise you at all to see him jump off for the football when the man on the dock through it. No surprise, he missed the ball and landed in the water with a splash, and was already laughing when he resurfaced a moment later.

That’s when he spots you, hand shooting up in a wave with a wide smile. “Heyo!” he yells, already swimming toward the dock. You could hear the excitement in his voice, and nervousness pangs in your stomach.

You had only seen him once since he’d been traded a year and a half ago, when he’d been in town for a game and you hadn’t even realized it. Sophie had invited you out, and there he was, happy as ever to see you. You were grateful that the bar had been loud and that Brady had been occupying most of Kevin’s attention. After a drink and a half and a quick conversation with Sophie, you’d taken off, managing to avoid Kevin other than the hug he’d given you as a greeting.

Since Jimmy and Sophie were together and Brady had Gracia, you and Kevin had been the odd couple out, paired together during group activities. It worked out at least, considering the two of you got along great.u seldom hung out once  When all three of the guys lived together, the two of you always seemed to be the last two up, chatting or finishing a movie even after the others had gone to bed.

It had felt so natural to hook up with Kevin the handful of times it had happened in the months leading up to when he was traded. Each time had been when you were both the last two awake, lingering on the sofa, usually at least a little drunk. It had always been casual, and you told yourself the only reason it happened (and kept happening) were out of convenience. You’d certainly never seemed like his type, considering almost every girl you’d ever seen him talk to at a bar had the same slender build and the confidence that came with it.

You snapped yourself out of the thoughts, and tug at the fabric of your shirt self-consciously, feeling like it’s clinging to all the wrong parts of your body. Kevin’s eyes are on you still as he climbed the ladder to meet you on the dock, making you feel even more aware of yourself. He paused to grab a towel off the rail, rubbing it over his hair, then settling it over his shoulders. His swim shorts hung low on his hips and you force yourself to meet his eye, happy to see that he was smiling widely at you as he approached.

“It’s so good to see you,” he said, sounding as sincere as you could ever imagine. It felt like his smile had grown, and it made it impossible for you not to mirror the expression right back to him. “I’d hug you, but in case you didn’t notice, I was just in the lake.” You had forgotten how deep his voice was, and you tell yourself that it’s the sun that’s making you feel hot all over.

“I’m good with a rain check,” you responded, nodding at him. From the golden tone of his skin, you can tell he’s been outside a lot this summer. He looked great, as always, and you hadn’t expected anything less. 

“Good by me,” he told you with a laugh, bringing a hand out to ruffle your hair in lieu of a hug. You laugh with him, not quick enough to stop him. “How’s life been? Man, I feel like I haven’t seen or heard from you in forever.” You don’t let yourself think about his tone, how he almost sounds a little sad about it.

You shrug quickly in response to his question, still grinning. “Things are okay. Nothing’s really been going on, I guess. I miss you guys though.” Your hand comes up to shield the sun from your eyes, tilting your head up to see him better. He’s so tall that looking at him heads on would have you staring at the bit of hair that covers his chest, at how broad his shoulders are, and you were worried that you’d never stop if you started. “What about you? How’s Philly?” 

“I miss New York, but damn, Philly’s been great, I can’t even lie about it,” he admitted with a bit of a laugh. It was good to know that he’s happy, and you can feel it radiating off of him. “It’s a good city, and a good group of dudes. And this guy, over here,” he paused, voice a little louder as he motions behind him to the guy who’d thrown the football, “is Nolan. We lived together this year.”

Nolan looked at the two of you, holding up a hand to wave before turning his attention back to talking to one of Jimmy’s friends that’s floating in an inner-tube close to the dock. You were both silent for a moment then before whoever was on the jet ski yelled Kevin’s name, waving for him to come back out.

“You should come swim,” Kevin told you, motioning to whoever it was that he’d be there in a minute. 

Your eyebrows rose and you were quick to shake your head, even before self-consciousness dug its claws into you. “Nah, not right now at least,” you said, dismissing the idea with a wave of your hand. “I just came down to say hey, I’m actually going to go chill on the deck and read for a while, I think.”

For a short second, Kevin looked a little disappointed, but he doesn’t say anything about it. He instead nodded, smiling again already as his hand came up to your shoulder. “Yeah, gotcha.” It’s hard to ignore how large his hand is on you, the way he squeezes just slightly, his thumb brushing against your collarbone. “We’ll catch up more later.”

“Yeah, of course,” you told him, doing your best not to lean into his hand. Thankfully, he stepped away before your willpower went out, and you watched as he damn near sprinted back to the edge of the dock, jumping into the water in an effort to splash a friend.

You stopped in the cabin to grab your iPad, and on your way out to the back deck, a girl who introduced herself as Amy put a margarita in your hand and hugged you like she’d known you for years. It was a damn good margarita too, you realized as you settled on a lounge chair, stretching your legs out in front of you.

The rest of the afternoon ticks by easily. The margarita is rather strong, relaxing you into the chair as you read for the next hour and a half until Brady showed up. You’d been able to hear laughter and the occasional shouting from the water every so often, Kevin’s voice usually the loudest. Brady, Sophie, and Jimmy joined you on the deck a while later, and the four of you take the time to catch up a little more and figure out how to spend the next few days.

The sun had just stating to set when pizza arrived for dinner. The air is still warm, and someone was already working on starting a bonfire. Sophie was to your right at the picnic table, a little tipsy as she munched on some garlic bread.

Across the table, Brady was talking about his upcoming nuptials. Gracia hadn’t been able to make it for the trip, but you were glad he’d decided to come. Next to him, Kevin interjected with a dumb comment at one point, making Jimmy snicker.

“By the way, Kev, do you need a plus one? Have you been seeing anybody?” Brady asked, turning his head to look at him rather pointedly. It takes everything you have not to snicker a bit, lifting a slice a pizza to your mouth. 

“Naah, I’m not seeing anyone,” Kevin responded, lifting his shoulders in a shrug. “I’m sure I could find someone to go with, but I haven’t really dated much since Y/N.”

You freeze when he says your name, your mouth already half open to take a bite. What the fuck is he talking about? 

“We never dated,” you said, the words more sharp than you’d meant them to be. Your eyebrows have practically shot up, and you look away from him as an awkward silence hangs over the table for a beat until Sophie exhales a laugh.

Jimmy really came to the rescue by changing the subject, and your cheeks were burning by the time you met Kevin’s eye again. He actually looked a little amused, but rather than making you feel relieved, it makes heat curl down your spine. 

By the time it was completely dark, part of the group had settled on the sofa and chairs in the living room to watch a movie, while others decided to go on late ride on the lake. It was still plenty warm out, and you’d really hit a stride in the book you’d been working on, so you ended up back in the same chair you’d spent most afternoon in. The line of string lights gives the deck a nice glow to it, and you can hear the buzz of the TV in the living room.

The sliding glass door opens then closes, at you look up to see Kevin walking towards you.

“Is the movie no good?” you asked, tilting your head as you look at him. He had a beer in one hand and a hard cider in the other that he offered to you. The fact that he recognized your favorite brand in the fridge made you smile as you thanked him quietly for it.

“Movie’s fine, just thought I’d come see if you wanted to go for a walk or go hang by the water,” he responded, shrugging as he took a sip from the beer still in his hand.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” You shrugged back at him, flashing a grin as you got to your feet. Leaving your iPad on the seat for the time being, you follow him to the stairs, then down the trail to the dock.

“How are things in New York?” Kevin asked after a moment’s silence, and you glance up at him with a skeptical look.

“I thought we talked about this earlier,” you counter, taking a sip of your drink. He scoffed, shrugging beside you as the pair of you started down the dock.

“Yeah, I guess we did, really, how are things?” Kevin’s voice was lower this time, making your back straighten when he looked at you again. “How are you?”

You weren’t expecting such a direct question, and you’re grateful to deflect it for even a moment longer as you take the time kick off your shoes and sit on the edge of the dock. An answer still hasn’t found you, so you take a drink instead of speaking. Kevin watched you all the while as he sat next to you, making self-awareness prickle at the base of your neck.

“Life’s fucking weird right now,” you admit finally, looking at the reflection of the moon on the water. “And it actually kind of fucking sucks too.” Kevin doesn’t respond right away, but when you took a deep breath, his elbow nudged yours lightly.

“You’ll get through it,” he assured you, with such sureness in his voice that you looked at him with a warm smile.

“I know I will. It’s just hard, but I’m dramatic, so of course it feels like the end of an era or something.” Your shoulders rise then fall in a shrug, still looking at him. “And then I feel selfish for even feeling that way to begin with. I know it wasn’t your choice to leave, or Brady’s, or Jimmy’s. I’m trying not to let myself be too sad about it.” You were surprised that your voice remained even as you spoke.

The words hang in the air and Kevin nodded, bring a hand up to touch the back of your shoulder. You feel warm all over as his fingers splay over your upper back, and you find yourself biting the edge of your tongue when tears sting in your eyes. 

“I was sad about leaving too. I knew I’d miss the guys, that I’d miss you, but that’s what makes trips like these nice, getting to catch up and just hang out for a few days,” he said finally, his hand still on your shoulder when he met your eye. “I’m honestly surprised you’re not following Sophie to Buffalo.”

Your nose scrunched at the thought and you shook your head, exhaling a quick laugh. “I honestly thought about it, but I know she’s excited to be moving in with him, and I don’t want her to feel like she has to always keep me company or something,” you explained, peeling at the edge of the label on your bottle with your thumbnail. You weren’t sad enough about being alone in New York to justify moving upstate, you knew that much.

“Philly’s not far from New York, y’know. You can always come hang with me and Nolan, and I know there’s a few other guys on the team you’d have a good time with,” Kevin offered, taking a long swig of his beer as his hand finally fell from your shoulder. “Or I could visit you. We could go to that one bakery you like so much, watch movie or TV all day, just kind of chill.”

A wide smile spread across your face. “Yeah, I’d like that,” you said, taking the chance to nudge him with your elbow. Kevin nodded, still grinning as he nudged you right back. It felt good to be talking to him, to have him close enough to smell his cologne for the first time in a year and a half.

There was another pause, and you both took a drink, the sound of frogs and crickets hanging around you.

“Sorry for putting you on the spot like that at dinner. It was meant to be a joke,” he said finally, taking another drink to finish off the bottle. You glance up at him and it almost looked like he was blushing a bit over it.

Scoffing, you shake your head. “Don’t worry about it, but Kev, you know we never dated,” you told him, laughing as you finish off your own drink.

“We kind of did!” he responded, laughing with you. “We went out plenty of times!”

“Dude, texting me ‘hey, are you hungry?’ at 11pm, then going to a 24 hour diner does not count as a date.” You snorted, shaking your head. When he caught your eye, he was smiling almost bashfully.

“Okay, fine,” he conceded, holding your gaze. “The next time we go on a date, I’ll make sure you’re aware of it, deal?”

Your response is to laugh again, nodding and looking away this time. The way he’s looking at you makes you feel like you’re back on the sofa in their old apartment at 2am. A chill ran down you and you exhaled a breathe, watching the way the water rippled as a breeze swept through.

“I’m really did miss you,” Kevin told you, and from the corner of your eye, you know he was watching you again. Nervousness plucked along the back of your neck, and you kept your eyes on the water. “Like, way more than I miss Jimmy and Brady, honestly.” You don’t fully believe him, but either way, the sentiment makes your heart ache. 

With your jaw clenched, you exhaled a breath as your eyes burned with the threat of tears. “I missed you most too,” you assured him, swallowing the lump in your throat. 

“Good.” He paused, tilting his head up to look at the stars for a moment. “Can we watch season two of Fleabag sometime this weekend?” Kevin looked at you a second later and blinked as you laughed.

“Yeah, of course. That’s an oddly specific request,” you said, letting your eyes move over the lines of his face as he shrugged.

“I haven’t watched it yet, I was waiting until I could watch it with you.” His words made you blink, and your throat swelled, hating this rush of emotions now that you’d felt happier for most of the day. You didn’t really know what to say, so you just nodded again, suddenly feeling the urge to lean into him to bury your face in his neck comfortably.

A few months before he had been traded, you’d started the first season at 1:30am after a night of drinking. Brady had been at Gracia’s, and Jimmy and Sophie hadn’t even made it through the first episode. Considering the season consisted of six 25 minute episodes, it was easy for you and Kevin to stay up and watch the entire first season, curled up together on the couch.

You and Kevin had spent the following half hour making out like teenagers until he absolutely begged you to come to bed with him. Feeling heat beside your thighs, you now wish you had said yes, just to have that extra memory.

The two of you spend the next several minutes in silence, sitting side by side on the dock in the dark. You can hear music playing from the cabin behind you and the murmur of voices surrounding the fire pit that was a dozen feet away. Your heart was racing as you fidgeted after a while, trying to ignore the feelings for him that you had buried when he was traded that were now bubble at the surface.

Eventually, Kevin mentioned going up to the house for more drinks, and you agreed, getting to your feet with a sigh. You looked up at him briefly, then toward the house behind you.

“Before we head up, can I cash in my rain check for that hug from earlier?” he asked, running a hand over his hair as he watched you.

“Yeah, of course,” you responded, smiling widely as you walked into the arms he held open for you. 

You let out a breathe as he hugged you tightly, your face pressed into his chest. He smelled as good as he always did, and warmth of his hand rubbing over your back had you relaxing into him. Your fingers curl in the fabric of his shirt when he kissed the side of your head once, then a second time. 

“It’s gonna be a good weekend, yeah?” he murmured, the words muffled against your hair. It took everything you had not to shiver against him, and you nodded, happy to keep yourself nuzzled securely against him for a while longer. 

A FEW MORE NOTES: Well, this fic feels a lot more emotional than I’m used to writing, and it’s one of those things that I really like where I’m heading with this, but I worry about it seeming whiny or wishy-washy, but here it is anyway. How typical of me to vanish for months, then show up with a new story when everyone’s been waiting for Bring You Back to Me’s next chapter 😂 I love whoever of you are still reading at this point, and I hope you enjoy this fic. I loved the first part, but I’m so not used to writing anymore and that, paired with my ever present self-doubt, I’m like “is this fic good at all??? let’s fucking see!!!” and here we are 🤷🏻‍♀️

FRIDAY

#kevin hayes #kevin hayes fic #kevin hayes imagine #hockey imagine #forever terrible at tagging these whoops #pretty please

[harrystylesleftkneecap]

New person, same mistakes (1)

This was requested a very long time ago. I disappeared bc school is hard lmao. I’m back and will take requests!

Summary: After losing your parents, you move to the OBX with your cousin to continue your teenage years. The RULE makes for unsteady relationships, and several heartbreaks. 

Warnings: mentions of sex, drug use, abuse, violence , read at your own risk. 

Kie and her family were such angels for letting you come stay with them. After losing your parents, a new way of life was so incredibly refreshing. You were finally finding out who you were. Your aunt and uncle were so accommodating, and Kie made it much easier to make friends.

After a long day on the boat, you were finally stepping off onto steady ground. Your legs were sore, skin burning from the blistering sun, and to say you were dehydrated would be an understatement. The boys only brought alcohol along, and you and Kie had brought along some Capri suns, but ran out halfway through the day. The alcohol was still in your system, and you slowly trotted to the chateau, cooler in hand making the trek no easier.

“Hey, let me get that.” John b spoke, coming to your side. You looked at the brunette boy, his freckles prominent due to the sun exposure.

“Uh, it’s okay John b, I’ve got it.” You sighed, refusing the help of your former flame.

“Seriously, give it here.” He sighed, his hand brushing yours as he took the cooler from your grasp.

You lied there, completely bare with the brunette boy sighing next to you.

“We can’t keep doing this.” John b broke the silence.

You froze, trying to comprehend the words that just fell past his lips.

“W-what?” You said, rising and letting the cover fall exsposing your bare chest.

“Cmon y/n, you know the rule.” He breathed, standing from the bed to put his clothes back on.

“What? The stupid no pogue on pogue macking? You’re really gonna try to enforce that now?” You scoffed, standing to get dressed as well.

John b looked at you, “if the others found out, they would flip. And we’ve been best friends for years. I feel like we should stop while we’re ahead.”

“Seriously? Stop while we’re ahead?” You scoffed, pulling your shoes on “ I’m pretty sure they’ve got a pretty good idea about what’s going on already.”

“Maybe I just want to stop.” He said, making you freeze once again.

You slowly turned to face him, trying your best to keep the tears from spilling over your eyes.

“You want to stop? What happened to love John B? Huh? Was that all a stupid play to get in my fucking pants?” You spoke, your voice raising slightly.

John b shot his hands out towards you, in an effort to keep you calm. “Y/n! They’re outside, don’t wake them up!”

“Whatever John b.” You scoffed, grabbing your things and flinging the door to his room open.

You quickly made your way through the living room, seeing JJ smoking God knows what on the couch.

“Hey, where are you going?” He asked, his face suddenly scrunching in concern as John b came out behind you.

“Home- kie’s- what the fuck ever!” You groaned, finally making your way out of the chateau.

JJ watched as you got in your car, and swiftly drove off, dirt flying up behind your tires.

“John b-“

“Don’t, it’s nothing.” He sighed, dropping his arms to his side and making his way to the fridge.

“Y/n?” You wer suddenly brought out of your thoughts when JJ spoke to you.

John B had long ago made it into the chateau, and you and JJ were the only ones outside.

“Uh yeah, what’s up J?”

“Well you were just kinda standing here, not moving.” He told you.

“Yeah, just, lost in my thoughts I guess.” You stifled a laugh.

He nodded, and the two of you made your way through the thick summer air to the chateau.

Kie always told you that you were too good for John b, he didn’t really know what he had when he had it.

It took months, but you finally got back into the dating game eventually. And so say the other pogues were happy for you would be a lie.

You missed John b, you missed what the two of you had. But you were with someone else now.

Before you entered the chateau, tires crunched onto the rocks, signaling someone pulling into the chateau.

You turned to see the all to familiar car, music blasting for everyone to hear.

You rolled your eyes as your boyfriend stepped out of the car, strolling up to your place on the porch causing JJ to scoff.

You slapped him lightly

“I’m gonna go inside before I kill someone.” He spoke, causing your boyfriend to roll his eyes.

As JJ stepped over the threshold into the small house, your boyfriend wrapped his hands around your waist.

“Hey rafe.” You giggled, turning into his chest and inhaling his woody sent.

“Hey babe.” He sighed, slightly stumbling as he pulled you in even closer.

“Woah, are you okay?” You questioned, tugging away to get a better look at his face.

He was flushed, warm with beads of sweat cascading down his forehead.

“Of course I am babe.” He brushed you off, moving his head to place a rather rough kiss on your neck.

“Rafe, what are you doing? We are literally on John B’s porch.” You spoke, trying to push his heavy weight off your body.

“Cmon baby, let’s go get in the car and I’ll make you feel good, yeah?” He purred, his hands snaking up your bikini top.

“Rafe!” You said loudly, finally mustering the strength to push him off you.

“What’s your deal?” He yelled, shocking you at his sudden outburst.

With wide eyes, you scoffed, “what’s my deal? What’s yours! You’re literally trying to get into my pants on someone’s porch!”

“You don’t want me.” He deadpanned, taking his sunglasses off and running his hands through his hair.

“Of course I want you, just not right now, an-and not on a front porch for Gods sake!” You responded, pulling your face into his hands.

“Rafe,” you questioned, staring into his eyes concern and fear bubbling in your stomach.

“Rafe, are you high right now?” You whispered.

He rolled his eyes, “it doesn’t matter y/n, what matters is you don’t want to have sex with me, you want to break up!” He nearly cried, sitting on the steps with his hands pulling at his hair.

“Baby, of course I want you. But not while you’re high off God knows what! What have you been doing?”

“Just get away from me!” He yelled, swatting his hand at your legs before standing to walk to his car.

You jumped back in surprise, and watched as your boyfriend stalked off to his car before swiftly pulling off onto the street.

You were shocked to say the least, why was he being like this? You gave him every part of you, sometimes when you didn’t even want to. All you wanted to do was please him, make him happy.

You turned to see your friends watching intently from inside, and your cheeks flushed hot with embarrassment.

You opened the door to silence, other than the light ping of a bottle cap hitting the counter as JJ brought a cool beer to his lips.

“Are you okay?” Kie began.

You scanned the faces in the room, some of concern and others reading disappointment.

“Let’s just go home.” You sighed, turning to begin walking out. Kie said bye to the boys and quickly followed you onto the path.

“What was that?” She questioned, the orange glow from the sun casting beautiful shadows across the water.

“I don’t know.” You sighed, continuing the walk to your home, or, Kie’s home.

You tried calling Rafe a million times that night, laying in bed contemplating what you did wrong. Why did he feel like he needed to use drugs, were you not enough for him, like you weren't enough for John B? 

thankfully, a light knock at your door pulled you out of your thoughts. A blonde head of messy hair peaked around the corner of you door. 

“Are you dressed?” JJ’s voiced sounded, and you just curled up into your covers more, willing him to go away. 

“I’m coming in wether you like it or not, and to be honest I don’t really care if you’re dressed or not.”

Once JJ fully stepped into the room, he contemplated following kie’s orders to drag you along to the kegger. 

“JJ I don’t want to go.” You spoke, staying put in your mountain of blankets. 

“Well kie is gonna kick my ass if i don’t come downstairs with you, so this isn’t really about you.” 

Sighing, you sat up to see JJ’s lips quirked into a smile. You knew she really would kick his ass, so for the betterment of your friend you obliged. 

“okay, but I’m not going to have fun.” You told him, and he chuckled softly. 

“That’s okay, come on you can wear that, we’re already running late.” He said, pulling you out the door. 

The kegger wasn’t too crazy, just a handful of people and a cool night. You sat in a lawn chair, eyes on the fire when you felt a presence next to you. you were met with those all too familiar hazel eyes. 

“Hey.” he spoke. 

you cleared your throat, “Hey John B.”

He sighed, kicking sand as he rested his chin in his hands. He took a deep breath before sighing,

“I just thought you should know that I’m with sarah now.” 

you rose your eyebrows, “Now? You were with her before we broke up, and then threw me away like I meant nothing to you.” 

He sighed and stood before saying, “Y/n I loved you, I really did-“

“Yeah but you love Sarah more, don’t you?” You chuckled dryly, bringing your beer to your lips.

“Y/n we-“

“Just go John b, I don’t want to hear it.”

He slowly stalked away, joining the blonde girl who had no idea you’ve had your hands on every inch of his body. Touched every dimple and freckle that littered his skin. 

Before you could spiral any further, a loud motor lured you from your thoughts. 

seriously, who would bring a motorcycle out here? 

Oh, thats who. 

You stood apprehensively as Rafe made his way to you. 

“Hey baby.” He smiled, wrapping you tightly in a hug. 

“Rafe where did you get that motorcycle?” You asked him. 

“Don’t worry about it! Do you wanna come back to my place?” He asked, placing his hands on your hips, slowly drinking in your appearance. 

“Um, no not right now.” You said, notice the same dilated pupils you had seen just hours earlier. 

“Rafe, your’e high.” You scoffed, pulling away from him. 

“Yeah, so what,” He chuckled, reaching into his pocket retrieving a bag of a curious white powder, “You want some?” He offered, pushing the bag to you. 

“What! No!” You said, shaking your head at the boy in front of you.

“Whats your problem Y/N? Just take some, it makes you feel good.” He pushed further, dumping some of the contents onto his finger. 

He thrust his powder covered digit towards your face, and you turned away in disgust.

“No Rafe.” 

“Cmon, stop being a bitch and take it.” He harshly urged, grabbing you by the back of your head, gripping your hair and placing his finger under your nose. 

You thrashed in his grip, before finally falling to the ground. White powder falling over you, almost like the snow from back home.

“Seriously! You fucking bitch! Do you know how much that cost me!” He yelled, throwing his hands up in anger. 

He was starting to catch the attention of the others around you, especially JJ.

“Rafe I-I’m sorry.’ You choked out, starting to stand when a blunt force rammed into your side. 

You screamed in pain as you fell back into the sand. A dull throbbing shooting through your body. 

Did he just kick me? You struggled to sit up as he continued his mindless yelling. 

Instantly someone was at your side, helping you up as you watched JJ and pope hold Rafe from doing any more damage. 

tears spilled over your cheeks, and your body racked with sobs as kie pushed your hair out of your face, trying to calm you down. 

Of course John b wasn’t here to help

Rafe noticed your tears, and he instantly calmed, his face softening. 

“Oh, y/n I am so sorry-” 

“Shut up Rafe, we’re through!” You screamed at him, sobbing harder as kie held you against her body. 

she shot at look at JJ and pope, making JJ say, “Okay man, you gotta go.” 

“No! Y/n I’m sorry!” He cried, fighting against the two boys once more. 

“I said go man!”JJ raised his voice, forcefully pushing Rafe back to the bike he came in on.

Rafe sighed, and turned pulling his hair and kicking sand.

JJ made his way over to you, standing behind you and placing his hands on your shoulders while kie continued to tame your sobs.

“JJ h-he kicked m-me.” You choked out, and he whispered a soft I know in your hair.

JJ nodded kie off, and she took the hint, allowing you to fall into JJs grasp.

“Cmon, let’s go get you cleaned up, yeah?”

You nodded, leaning into him as he held your arm to aid your limp.

“Where’s John b?” You whispered, and JJ kept quiet, slowly leading you back to the chateau.

The others started to clear the party, wanting you to be able to calm down alone.

Once again, someone treated you like you were nothing. Maybe you are trash. Where did you go wrong?

JJ slowly walked by your side, letting you lean into him before you reached the porch of the chateau.

“JJ, I-I’m sorry.”

“What? You have nothing to be sorry for?” He spoke, leading you through the kitchen and into the small bathroom.

“You- you told me about him, you warned me, a-and I didn’t listen.” You sobbed, JJ slowly easing you down onto the closed seat of the toilet.

“Sometimes you can’t help who you fall in love with, it’s not your fault. You have nothing to be sorry for. And he’s lucky I didn’t bash his face in right there.” He said, squatting down to your level and Placing his hand on your chin to make you look at him.

Tears continued spilling out of your Y/E/C eyes, as JJ moved the sand clumped strands of hair out of your face.

His blue eyes looked into yours, and for a moment he contemplated his next moves, should he go beat the fucker up?

But he decided he needed to be here with you.

“You need to clean up, do you want me to leave you or?”

“I-I don’t think I can, my side really hurts.” You choked, steadying yourself in the blondes shoulder.

“Okay, I’m gonna go find kie-“

“No JJ, it’s fine, I just want to get cleaned up so I can lay down.” You told him, looking back up to meet his eyes.

“Okay, I’ll run you a bath.” He spoke softly, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder before starting the water.

“I’m used to people seeing me at this point.” You whispered, as he helped you stand and remove your clothing.

“What?” JJ was confused.

“I never really wanted to do the things Rafe wanted me to, I just thought I had to. I didn’t want him to leave me. But I guess it never really mattered.”

JJ wanted to cry, and go beat the shit out of the boy who forced you into things, kicked you, and made you feel like shit.

“You don’t ever have to worry about him again, I got you. I promise.” He said, lowering you into the warm tub water.

You closed your eyes as the warm water hit the throbbing bruise on your side, you continued crying as the events replayed in your head.

JJ slowly leaned you back to wash the clumps of dirt and sand out of your hair, your body limp as he held you.

His face scrunched up in concentration, seeming to have never washed another persons hair before.

You watched as his eyes focused on your h/c locks, rinsing them tenderly as to not cause you any unnecessary pain.

He raised you, water cascading down your back when a knock sounded at the door.

“Yeah?” JJ questioned, dunking a washcloth in the water and lathering it with soap.

“JJ, have you seen y/n?” Kies voice sounded from outside the bathroom.

“Yeah, she’s In here.” He spoke, beginning to wash your arms and torso as kie pushed the door open.

She gasped at the sight of her cousin, kneeling down beside JJ.

“Y/n...”

“I’m okay.” You croaked, throat sore from sobbing.

“That bruise is bad, do you think you need to go to the doctor?” She asked you, pushing strands of wet hair from your face as jj ran the washcloth over the forming purple and red contusion on your ribs.

You gasped and he let a soft sorry fall past his lips.

“I think it’s ok.” You whispered, as JJ finished and grabbed a towel to help you from the tub.

“I um- need clothes.” You whispered, clinging on to JJ as you stepped from the now cool water.

“Okay, I have some you can borrow.” He told you, sitting you down on the toilet to retrieve some clothes he had left in the chateau.

Kie looked at you concerned, wondering what you were thinking.

“I would’ve helped you with the bath you know.” She told you, sitting on the counter top.

“I know, I’m okay with JJ though.” You whispered, twirling your hair into a bun.

“Hey, are you alright?” Pope spoke, coming into the bathroom.

“Uh yeah, a little shaken but I’m fine.” You smiled.

He smiled back at you, falling into conversation.

Jj was rummaging through his room in the chateau, trying to find something decent to let you borrow. He could hear noises coming from John Bs room, and he rolled his eyes at the fact John b was to caught up with a kook to even know what had just happened to you.

Jj returned to the bathroom with a T-shirt and boxers, handing them to you before walking out with Pope to let kie help you change.

“He’s lucky I didn’t bash his face in man.” Jj sighed, leaning over the kitchen counter.

“What a dick.” Pope responded, falling onto the couch.

“John b doesn’t even know.” Jj said, looking to his friend.

“I know.”

#jj imagine #jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj x reader #john b imagines #outer banks #outer banks smut #pope heyward